Mourning Time

Oak Bluffs sunrise

I need the blessing
for those that mourn.
I mourn for something nameless
that cries in you
but won’t explain itself

I mourn for the chasm,
for the absent bridge,
I mourn for anything
I might have done or failed to do
to close the gap or span it,
I mourn the self-fulfillment
of a persistent dread

This healing is not
something I can do by sleight of thought.
This healing requires something ancient, timeless‚
the truth about you and me
that existed
before the world was framed,
the love that asserts itself,
flooding out the lie of pain.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 16, 2015

The Valley of Shadows

shadows

In the shaft of rescuing light, I see
I was not wrong,
need bear no shame,
for letting myself fall into shadow

I’m not expected to prevent
the cold dark spires
from passing over me,
the deepened gloom
from seeping in

It’s been foretold that this would happen
not once but regularly,
for which I am given instruction:
Walk through.

Walk through without fear:
Neither the shadow
nor the saving light
are your creation

But my feet are mine
and the light within
(though it seem tiny in its distance)
will ever seek its own
and pull me through.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 8, 2015