What forms us, what
makes us what we are,
what brings us to this place,
this state of being?

(Certainly it’s early
to wax retrospective,
with this, the greatest work
of our lives, before us)

(Clearly we have seen,
the story of our past is
the product of our present lens,
it shifts with each tilt of the head,
it doesn’t show us anything)

And yet, there is a fullness
in this sunny afternoon
flooded with memories,
there is a fondness
for what we have been,
however foolish

There is hope that all will yet bear fruit,
and all will be forgiven,
there is time
to let our lives unfold.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 7, 2016