Well, actually,
I don’t want to be the one
to do the talking
(Steam still rolling off of my indignant thoughts,
which mostly, to the mercy of the peace,
were never given breath)
I’m tired already, from their
pacing around inside the cage
of my surprise,
Rattling my words, finding them
deficient
It’s not enough that I deny them voice
They need to change, to find a higher mission
Somehow these thoughts
must all return to calm
So I consider:
Do I want to choose my friends, my loves,
on grounds of shared opinions,
so we can lie together
flat along the plane that we have chosen?
Or do I want to own
all the dimensions,
To spread out free, in an embrace
that hugs us all,
Transcending any scorn or condemnation?
Thank you. Right.
I won’t be duped to carrying that baggage on the plane
So I release all this from thought
to dwell in peace again.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 15, 2013