It was easier
not to take
the bold, rushing,
fearsome drop
into the daring darkness
of self betrayal
for the wild ride
of coolness, boyfriends,
the rash pursuit of popularity

It was easier to be innocent
and not to hear the innuendo,
not to brave initiation
to the secret club
of those who left the safety net behind.

It was easier. It wasn’t better.

For years I was mercifully blind
to my lack of understanding of the world,
shielded from seeing
my comfortable privilege
and my arrogance,
lulled to believing
my inexperience
could somehow count as virtue

Now I see
Each of us is always
reaching out for life.
Each thing, we’ve done
because it seemed best at the time.
We were impelled by the same force —
There is no right or wrong of it —
Each of us must cover all the ground
and each of us must be reclaimed

We each will fall,
we each will rise,
We’ll all come home accepted
in each other’s eyes.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 4, 2014

Much of the arc
seeks its course in darkness,
following the force of its curve
without seeing
where or when or if
it will connect —
the imperative of its essence
felt in its presence,
though the full circle
has not been grasped

When it reaches completeness —
touches its own —
and the circuit is closed,
the light is sudden
(This, this is what I am!)
And some things that seemed impossible
can suddenly be done
And the unfathomable
comes brightly clear.
In that moment,
quick as the click of an opening door,
everything changes
and you go through.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 16, 2014