As we close August’s exploration of conflict and resolution, we turn from the weight we carry to the work of mending what conflict leaves behind. Resolution rarely arrives through grand gestures or single moments of clarity. This poem explores how peace returns through deliberate, modest acts of repair—the small choices that slowly close the distances conflict creates.
🎧 Hear the poem aloud or read at your own pace—whichever speaks to you today.
Small Repairs
By Scott Tilley
Two mugs cool on the table. A pen rests between us like a truce. We number the lines from one to five, each task a small promise to tomorrow. One. Listen until the words run out. Two. Say what needs saying: I was wrong. Three. Wash the plates together, hands finding rhythm in shared water. Four. Call the cousin left waiting. Her voice cracks, then softens. We both exhale. The porch light steadies our breathing. Five. Walk the neighborhood at dusk. We carry a bag for litter, wave to the couple arguing over their fence. They pause. Wave back. The list complete, we find more work. Check the gate that scraped concrete. Three screws, some oil, it swings true. Small repairs multiply into habit. Back home, we fold the paper into tomorrow’s pocket. Salt air moves through the screen. Peace grows by what we choose to do.
✍️ Poetry Matters from Spirituality Today