None of these arrays,
none of these enemies
make any difference

There’s no need to analyze,
no need to have a contest
to see which ill is most egregious

One group’s pleasure
is another group’s primal, causal bane —
that which, if once snuffed out
would let the touted virtue save the day

No matter,
for we’re all just trying
to find the same thing —
the same mother’s milk,
the same father’s smile,
the same certainty that
our being is worthwhile

There will be many
with whom we don’t connect
but that’s OK —
They, too, will lift a load
in the great rising
in which we bear each other up
into the new day.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 23, 2015