Love paints itself on everything
This street I climb, these clouds
like round beach stones immersed in blue
These trees, their limbs reached out
in praise
This house, with all the smells
I’m eager to escape
Love paints itself on everything
The faces of the regulars in that cafe
The smile and wave one gave me as I left
As if I, too, would come there every day—
I took it with me — unexpected gift
“Which muse,” he teased, “has led you?
“I’ll be keeping track.”
But every inspiration pours out love
It all comes back
To bless this fertile chamber where I grow
my love to give it to the world.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 9, 2011
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