You had a taste of Truth – it was enough
to waken an insatiable thirst
that made you climb a tree, and beg for more
and walk in circles through the fields and say
“Why did I never know of you before?”
So after that, you made the resolution
to drink that light until it fills you too full
to be contained within confined constraints
– swell like a seed until the skin splits
and peels away revealing it’s not you
and never was – that what you’ve always been
is something else, made of stars and milk-white
innocence, and open eyes, so you can
break out of all that holds you in this shape
slip out of that old ego like a slim snake
and walk in nameless luminescence.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 6, 2011