Behind the wisps of sorrow
that came drifting up
from memories released
by an offhand reminder

Behind my being sorry
for being too inept
to offer you the wisdom
that you looked for,
behind the sense
that I had let you down

Comes, like the light that prompts the mist to lift,
to float above the ground before dispersing,
the fact that love was, even then,
the only force impelling me,
the only message I could give
and all that you could really hear

And love, I know, can do no harm,
and nothing I advised,
could interfere with who you are
and how you shine,
could hold you back from coming to your own.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 2, 2020