Your clothes don’t matter
in the place where we are all naked
Your habits, your opinions,
your credentials
weigh nothing, when we shed them all
For to bathe in this river
everything but the pure
sweet streaming of you
must be left behind
(or else it will be washed away anyway)
No one wants a piece of you
Nor can you rest on past laurels
Nor need you feel you have no name
to pull the proper recognition
Everyone who dives in
is borne along the bright current
and the river’s song
sings through us all.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 18, 2014
No comments:
Post a Comment