Draw me in, hold me close.
If there never was safety
in the circles that we drew
around ourselves, around our clan,
defining insiders and outside,
making structural strength
in the arc of joining arms

If there never was a safety
of tastes, of languages —
if all this is, as we see,
unceremoniously swept away
(that, or eaten steadily from inside)

There still is safety
in the unity of what we are,
the blessedness we sense as ours,
and the desire for it that always
draws us to our source

Draw me in,
for here is where we find
the common breath, the common voice
that sings us ever
safe and sound
resounding through our days.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 8, 2016