Even the inscrutable
can seem familiar —-
I can get used to the sounds of words
and not notice
I don’t know what they mean
or that, knowing the words,
I still don’t know the sense

Maybe I’ve patched some meaning on it,
an image that comes with the words,
maybe I read them thinking
of a conversation, or my afternoon

I have gone years that way
and missed, each time, the key dimension
that opens out the hidden laws,
the promised order

And if I find them,
suddenly I fly
with lift I didn’t know was there,
enlightened eyes,
and every word brings clarity
and secrets fall away like dreams —
in awe I trace the outlines
of reality.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 15, 2016