and the confusing counsel to atone,
the place of being where your name is clear
awaits the understanding that will bring you home
Above the clamor of the inner voices
that trace the stories, tally all the fault,
you’ve always sensed there might be other choices —
within the clutter, something to exalt
And so it’s only partially surprising
to find no need to settle all the scores,
not even need to stage a great uprising
to overthrow what held you down before.
Your remedy is simple but extreme —
you wake to find the whole thing was a dream.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 21, 2016
No comments:
Post a Comment