In this place of everybody’s tears,
it feels amiss to have opinions —
better to let the collective pool deepen,
better to hear the cleansing music
of the quiet drops
and let the gathered ocean
sigh and shift, pour in, recede,
find its common rhythm,
sweep us up within its cycling waves,
rock us, rock us, till our sobs subside
till our restive motion
finds its restful ease.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 18, 2017