Draw a picture for me, I said,
Take me on a mind trip,
tell me how it was for you

He said there wasn’t anything to say,
He grew impatient, for my questions
were so obvious —
Of course he had a backpack,
of course he had no trouble
finding his way

That’s OK. I have my own wilderness.
I have my own T-shirt-with-no-sweatshirt
journey through the mountains
and the cold of night

I have my own clearing
of the shrouded thoughts
I didn’t know I had,
my own exploration

of my power to hold the true sight
of all that brightness
streaming from his being,
all that trippy
flowing of his mind

and all the gifts of rare vision
offered by each singular
reflection of the light.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 20, 2014