This is Shiloh. War once painted these yellow fields red. It took years for gold to regain dominion. 

   All battles leave scars. Six years into his marriage a friend discovered betrayal. Soon, flash fires consumed the garden where beauty had reigned. 

   I asked what he honored about his marriage. "Nothing," he said. "It was the worst mistake of my life." 

   His wounded heart seeks solace by branding his broken relationship so meaningless its ending cannot hurt him. 

   W.S. Merwin crafted this: "I tell parts of a story/ that once occurred/ and I laugh with surprise at what disappeared/ though I remember it so well.

   When we dishonor a once-meaningful relationship or a lost job we demean ourselves. Because one knife cut us do we have to tarnish every piece of silver in memory's drawer?

   You were not a fool to love. Why become one by degrading love's history? 

   Replacing heart-break with heart-joy requires healing not curing. The angry mind sees bad endings as killing fields. This mind concocts odd cures. 

   First, it dilutes agony by naming a tainted relationship as something that never mattered.

   Next, this mind redefines the betrayer as a thief who should be punished with the acid of revenge. But, acid erodes the container not the "criminal."

   Only wisdom can envision old killing fields as fertile for replanting – places where the seeds of bright recollections can be coaxed from burned earth. 

   There is forgiveness in this world but not enough. There is joy in this world but not enough. There is love in this world but not enough.

   Healing potions are mixed in hearts, not machine shops. There, love's alchemy can create the only energy that can turn lead into gold, or consecrate scarred ground as sacred once again.

-Erie Chapman

"Shiloh's Gold" – Erie