I ask myself, why should I be tempted
with sorrow? – as light rain joins with dusk
to dim the sky, and I walk down to cook supper
while I can still see a little,
and before everything gets fully wet

Why should I let this unnamed mesh
put up a catchment for impending tears?
– while I hold back reasons, noticing
that one or several
could launch me into self-indulgent sadness

It is written
that sorrow has its reward,
that if kept honest
(free of self pity’s stories)
it makes a basin to receive comfort  –
comfort flowing in, cascading
all over the rims,
filling me up with acknowledgement  –
how infinite its source!

©Wendy Mulhern
May 3, 2021