Sonnet

There’s nothing new about this longing

How it rolls up, like mist across a lake

And hovers, haunting and etheric

Obscuring the horizon with its grey

This urgent need for contact and belonging

Cries out for feeding, many times a day

A quest for soft, shared heat, and mingled breathing

A constant call, that doesn’t go away

We once were weaned, or so we may have thought

To self-sufficiency, a virtue (so we’re taught)

But to remember, once, this grand connection

Sends our sufficiency to forge a new direction

To weave our lives so we can be together

In comfort and in shared support, forever.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 12, 2013