I need the blessing
for those that mourn.
I mourn for something nameless
that cries in you
but won’t explain itself

I mourn for the chasm,
for the absent bridge,
I mourn for anything
I might have done or failed to do
to close the gap or span it,
I mourn the self-fulfillment
of a persistent dread

This healing is not
something I can do by sleight of thought.
This healing requires something ancient, timeless‚
the truth about you and me
that existed
before the world was framed,
the love that asserts itself,
flooding out the lie of pain.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 16, 2015