I summon words to talk about
the place where words have crashed,
where I abandoned them
(a wing wrenched off, the fuselage burnt out)
and the entire arena (every place constructed
for the words to play)
now proven contrary to natural law

I summon words to hunt for hope,
and notice hope, in fact, springs eager
from the massive failure of what crashed

Everyone is so thirsty
for the sight of that small green shoot
and the taste of the water offered
in the place without words, without judgment,
where everything starts over with the truth.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 22, 2022