where I can no longer settle
for the flimsy garments
of my past, fake life,
for the oppressive garb
of my appointed station
Where I have yet to find
the robes of power and of justice
(though I have dreamed them
oh so many times)
I stand in rags
but not for long
The force that makes me,
that places me at rest,
possessing a prodigious energy
I’ve yet to tap,
that gives me everything I’ve ever been
and all I am to be,
that grants deep decency to all,
will clothe me, too.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 21, 2016
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