I don’t want to ever again
stumble
amid the rocky mazes
of social mores
Or ever bark my shins
against my own obtuseness,
My failures to anticipate
how something I might say or do
may have a bad effect
on someone else.
The tide has risen
and I now move
in a different, kinder medium
Where, in the main,
my weight is born
by that in which I swim
And the soft currents we create
uphold a natural coordination.
I will insist on moving in this ocean.
If, again, the tide goes out
and if I find myself
marooned amidst the ruins
of expectations,
I’ll stay still and watchful
Tenacious as a mussel
till the tide returns
and I can swim again.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 4, 2013