Look,
I said, earnest and concerned,
You can’t have a bad good
Or a good bad
For if you did, how could you then
know anything?
(a conversation I was having in my mind)
The ancient text entreats:
“My son, eat thou honey,
for it is good,”
And elsewhere,
“Butter and honey shall he eat
That he may know to refuse the evil
and choose the good.”
See? I said (in my mind)
You have to trust that
you can tell what good is
That you can know it by its fruits
You have to trust that if it’s love
you’ll love to do it
It will feed you, will sustain you
It will feel right.
Your constant vigilance will be for naught
if you imagine arcane texts
and tenuous interpretations
have more weight than your internal compass —
The weight of your joy
The overwhelming vastness
of your need
The unspeakable depth
your love can plumb
(and does so every day)
to meet it.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 28, 2011