16 Forgiveness Poems That Will Change Your Perspective On Life

Poetry about forgiveness at its best calls forth our deep being. It dares us to break free from the safe strategies of the cautious mind; it calls to us, like the wild geese, as Mary Oliver would say, from an open sky. It is a magical art and always has been — a making of language spells designed to open our eyes, open our doors and welcome us into a bigger world, one of the possibilities we may never have dared to dream of.

Mustering up genuine compassion for those who have wronged us, instead of allowing anger toward them to eat away at us, is the course of action recommended by most psychologists. Forgiveness is different from condoning (failing to see the action as wrong and in need of forgiveness), excusing (not holding the offender as responsible for the action), forgetting (removing awareness of the offense from consciousness), pardoning (granted for an acknowledged offense by a representative of society, such as a judge), and reconciliation (restoration of a relationship).

There are some of short poems about life that have sunk deep into our collective consciousness as cultural icons. And uplifting poems will restore your mental grit and courage to live your life differently.

What are the benefits of forgiving someone?

Letting go of grudges and bitterness can make way for happiness, health, and peace. Forgiveness can lead to:

• Healthier relationships
• Greater spiritual and psychological well-being
• Less anxiety, stress, and hostility
• Lower blood pressure
• Fewer symptoms of depression
• Stronger immune system
• Improved heart health
• Higher self-esteem

Short Poems About Forgiveness

“Forgiveness Garden”
In a garden where grudges don’t grow,
And resentments no longer reside,
Lies the soil of forgiveness, so fertile and wide.
Where the seeds of pardon, freely sown,
Blossom into peace, once unknown.

“The Art of Letting Go”
Forgiveness is an art, a delicate dance,
A choice to release, not leave to chance.
It’s painting over pains of the past,
With colors of grace, that forever last.

“Echoes of Understanding”
In the echo of your words, I find,
A forgiveness that’s both gentle and kind.
It’s in understanding, not in being right,
That we find the strength to end the fight.

“Forgive, Not Forget”
To forgive is not to forget,
But to remember without regret.
It’s acknowledging the hurt and the pain,
And choosing to love, again and again.

“Healing Waters”
Let forgiveness be like healing waters,
Flowing over wounds, mending sons and daughters.
Where every tear cried has led to the sea,
And every heart finds its way to be free.

These poems explore the essence of forgiveness, not just as an act, but as a transformative journey. These short poems can inspire reflection and offer comfort to those seeking solace in the process of forgiving. These poems aim to heal and uplift, reminding us of the power of forgiveness in our lives.

Famous Forgiveness Poems

This poetry collection contains the different aspect of forgiveness such as I forgive you poems, inspirational poems forgiveness, famous poems forgiveness, sorry poems for hurting, short forgiveness poems and poems about forgiving someone.

Below, I share some examples of famous Forgiveness poems written by famous poets. You can also take a look our selection of heartbroken poems from famous poets.

a total stranger one black day by Edward Estlin (E E) Cummings

a total stranger one black day
knocked living the hell out of me–

who found forgiveness hard because
my(as it happened)self he was

-but now that fiend and i are such

Do not be ashamed by Wendell Berry

You will be walking some night
in the comfortable dark of your yard
and suddenly a great light will shine
round about you, and behind you
will be a wall you never saw before.

It will be clear to you suddenly
that you were about to escape,
and that you are guilty: you misread
the complex instructions, you are not
a member, you lost your card
or never had one.
And you will know
that they have been there all along,
their eyes on your letters and books,
their hands in your pockets,
their ears wired to your bed.

Though you have done nothing shameful,
they will want you to be ashamed.

They will want you to kneel and weep
and say you should have been like them.

And once you say you are ashamed,
reading the page they hold out to you,
then such light as you have made
in your history will leave you.

They will no longer need to pursue you.

You will pursue them, begging forgiveness.

They will not forgive you.

There is no power against them.

It is only candor that is aloof from them,
only an inward clarity, unashamed,
that they cannot reach.
Be ready.

When their light has picked you out
and their questions are asked, say to them:
“I am not ashamed.
” A sure horizon
will come around you.
The heron will begin
his evening flight from the hilltop.

Forgiveness by George William Russell

AT dusk the window panes grew grey;
The wet world vanished in the gloom;
The dim and silver end of day
Scarce glimmered through the little room.

And all my sins were told; I said
Such things to her who knew not sin—
The sharp ache throbbing in my head,
The fever running high within.

I touched with pain her purity;
Sin’s darker sense I could not bring:
My soul was black as night to me;
To her I was a wounded thing.

I needed love no words could say;
She drew me softly nigh her chair,
My head upon her knees to lay,
With cool hands that caressed my hair.

She sat with hands as if to bless,
And looked with grave, ethereal eyes;
Ensouled by ancient Quietness,
A gentle priestess of the Wise.

The Rest by Margaret Atwood

The rest of us watch from beyond the fence
as the woman moves with her jagged stride
into her pain as if into a slow race.

We see her body in motion
but hear no sounds, or we hear
sounds but no language; or we know
it is not a language we know
yet.
We can see her clearly
but for her it is running in black smoke.

The cluster of cells in her swelling
like porridge boiling, and bursting,
like grapes, we think.
Or we think of
explosions in mud; but we know nothing.

All around us the trees
and the grasses light up with forgiveness,
so green and at this time
of the year healthy.

We would like to call something
out to her.
Some form of cheering.

There is pain but no arrival at anything.

Forgiveness by Alfred Austin

Now bury with the dead years conflicts dead
And with fresh days let all begin anew.
Why longer amid shrivelled leaf-drifts tread,
When buds are swelling, flower-sheaths peeping through?
Seen through the vista of the vanished years,
How trivial seem the struggle and the crown,
How vain past feuds, when reconciling tears
Course down the channel worn by vanished frown.
How few mean half the bitterness they speak!
Words more than feelings keep us still apart,
And, in the heat of passion or of pique,
The tongue is far more cruel than the heart.
Since love alone makes it worthwhile to live,
Let all be now forgiven, and forgive.

Sorry by R. S. Thomas

Dear parents,
I forgive you my life,
Begotten in a drab town,
The intention was good;
Passing the street now,
I see still the remains of sunlight.

It was not the bone buckled;
You gave me enough food
To renew myself.
It was the mind’s weight
Kept me bent, as I grew tall.

It was not your fault.
What should have gone on,
Arrow aimed from a tried bow
At a tried target, has turned back,
Wounding itself
With questions you had not asked.

Psalm 103: 1-5 by The Bible

Bless the Lord, O my soul
And all that is within me
Forgetting not His benefits
Nor forgiveness of iniquity
Bless Him, who brings healing
And redemption to our lives
Crowning us with loving kindness
And with blessings, satisfies.

Forgiveness by John Greenleaf Whittier

My heart was heavy, for its trust had been
Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong;
So, turning gloomily from my fellow-men,
One summer Sabbath day I strolled among
The green mounds of the village burial-place;
Where, pondering how all human love and hate
Find one sad level; and how, soon or late,
Wronged and wrongdoer, each with meekened face,
And cold hands folded over a still heart,
Pass the green threshold of our common grave,
Whither all footsteps tend, whence none depart,
Awed for myself, and pitying my race,
Our common sorrow, like a mighty wave,
Swept all my pride away, and trembling I forgave!

The Sprig of Moss by William Topaz McGonagall

There lived in Munich a poor, weakly youth,
But for the exact date, I cannot vouch for the truth,
And of seven of a family he was the elder,
Who was named, by his parents, Alois Senefelder.

But, poor fellow, at home his father was lying dead,
And his little brothers and sisters were depending upon him for bread,
And one evening he was dismissed from his employment,
Which put an end to all his peace and enjoyment.

The poor lad was almost mad, and the next day
His parent’s remains to the cemetery were taken away;
And when his father was buried, distracted like he grew,
And he strolled through the streets crying, What shall I do!

And all night he wandered on sad and alone,
Until he began to think of returning home,
But, to his surprise, on raising his head to look around,
He was in a part of the country which to him was unknown ground.

And when night came on the poor lad stood aghast,
For all was hushed save the murmuring of a river which flowed past;
And the loneliness around seemed to fill his heart with awe,
And, with fatigue, he sat down on the first stone he saw.

And there resting his elbows and head on his knees,
He sat gazing at the running water, which did him please;
And by the light of the stars which shone on the water blue,
He cried, I will drown myself, and bid this harsh world adieu.

Besides, I’m good for nothing, to himself he said,
And will only become a burden to my mother, I’m afraid
And there, at the bottom of that water, said he,
From all my misfortunes death will set me free.

But, happily for Alois, more pious thoughts rushed into his mind,
And courage enough to drown himself he couldn’t find,
So he resolved to go home again whatever did betide,
And he asked forgiveness of his Creator by the river side.

And as he knelt, a few incoherent words escaped him,
And the thought of drowning himself he considered a great sin,
And the more he thought of it, he felt his flesh creep,
But in a few minutes he fell fast asleep.

And he slept soundly, for the stillness wasn’t broke,
And the day was beginning to dawn before he awoke;
Then suddenly he started up as if in a fright,
And he saw very near him a little stone smooth and white,

Upon which was traced the delicate design of a Sprig of Moss
But to understand such a design he was at a loss,
Then he recollected the Sprig of Moss lying on the stone,
And with his tears he’d moistened it, but it was gone.

But its imprint was delicately imprinted on the stone;
Then, taking the stone under his arm, he resolved to go home,
Saying, God has reserved me for some other thing,
And with joy he couldn’t tell how he began to sing.

And on drawing near the city he met his little brother,
Who told him his uncle had visited his mother,
And on beholding their misery had left them money to buy food,
Then Alois cried, Thank God, the news is good!

Then ’twas on the first day after Alois came home,
He began the printing of the Sprig of Moss on the stone;
And by taking the impressions of watch-cases he discovered, one day,
What is now called the art of Lithography.

So Alois plodded on making known his great discovery,
Until he obtained the notice of the Royal Academy,
Besides, he obtained a gold Medal, and what was more dear to his heart,
He lived to see the wide extension of his art.

And when life’s prospects may at times appear dreary to ye,
Remember Alois Senefelder, the discoverer of Lithography,
How God saved him from drowning himself in adversity,
And I hope ye all will learn what the Sprig of Moss teaches ye.

And God that made a way through the Red Sea,
If ye only put your trust in Him, He will protect ye,
And light up your path, and strew it with flowers,
And be your own Comforter in all your lonely hours.

The Joy Of Forgiveness by Susan T. Aparejo

The joy of forgiveness
lightens one’s burden,
It showers happiness,
Showers our heart with
blessedness, so we wake up
in a lighter mood of wellness.

Just try, unload your baggage,
Throw away such garbage,
Let our heart fly and set a voyage,

Feel free to take out such bondage,
And stop our physique from its wreckage.

The joy of forgiveness is the key,
To live on earth peacefully,
And wake up the morning readily,
A fresh air dominates comfortably,
So sweet a conscience of harmony.

I forgive you and you forgive me,
Another flow of peace release,
Another love and acceptance dominate,
Let the trust once again surface,
As we give each other a chance,
We mean forgiveness at hand.

Patterns Of Forgiveness by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Seasons come and go, leaving memories of hereditary
reminders on waysides of living.
Gathering decisions like wild flowers in bouquets of
reminiscence.
Talking of vibrant issues within niches of coagulated
being, recognizing interesting factions through
patterns of forgiveness.
Messages being sent to heaven in wisps of candle flames,
rising higher with every prayer.
Soliciting an attentive initiative towards endings of
life.

Let cute love poems for him give you new perspective on love and spiritual poetry give you the response to the central questions of human life.

FAQs: Exploring the Power of Forgiveness