Shelter

A house of cards

A house of straw

A house of words

What gravitas can they afford?

A bold, invented self

Or even one that hides

And only tells itself its little stories

How can it feed the hunger of my soul?

I’m rendered quiet

I don’t even have two cards

To lean against each other

No straw that isn’t old and wet and mildewed

No words to form a self-respecting cover

So I go and dance

I build my house of arcs of reaching arms

And light that flows between each darting glance

All filled with music and the moment’s charms

And if my gesture shelters someone else

And gathers others as its moves unfold

I, too, will find a shelter for myself

In that sweet harmony

The dance can hold.


©Wendy Mulhern

February 15, 2012