I’ve seen the change in him. His very words
have taken flight like little wingèd birds.
I could not know that all the hurt he spewed
would be retracted, attitude so crude

subtracted. Who, I ask, am I to doubt
this change? Forgiveness on my lips, I shout
to all the hills and treetops: Thank You, God,
for changing stones upon the path I trod

into soft slippers. Now I walk the wood
and notice where that poison tree once stood.
Yes, what I thought would never change has changed.
I see the puzzle pieces rearranged.

And so I learn to never give up hope,
to look, to raise my eyes toward that far slope
where God unwrapped a present just for me.
I tell Him Thank You, don’t ask Can this be?