Ah, what have you shouldered?
— Put it down —
What have you swallowed?
— Spit it out —
At this time of heaviness,
in this time of lies,
In the face of revolution
or worse, suffocation
The one thing that is needed
is not for you to go down
(though the depths cry out, cry out,
though something calling itself conscience
demands your howling)
The one thing that is needed
is for you to demonstrate
(if only to yourself)
the survival move of shrugging off the weight
and letting the afflatus
bear you to the surface,
letting the stillness
radiate,
letting your truth
rise.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 28, 2015
I enjoyed your poem, Wendy. When I meditate, I often find the weight is fake! Mostly an illusion heaved upon my shoulders through delusion, usually by taking myself too seriously. I recently opened my blog with a poem about my wife. Would love to hear what an accomplished poet, such as yourself, thinks of it.
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