Lift Your Head

No guilt,

of being found

with the impress

of a wound, stamped

in the sad and haunting image

of a wound

that you always have detested,

that you scorned

as it, in turn, was spurned

by countless others

in your place

who wished

as deeply as do you

they could be free

No curse

upon the generations

no alarm

no stain upon your visage —

You are pure,

as pure as all the others

down the broad and brilliant

pathway of your line,

For when you lift your head

out of that dream,

you lift them all,

and when you’re lifted,

you all, together, shine.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 27, 2014