Honey

In the turn of time

I come around to notice

how much I am like my husband,

how much he is like my father,

how much all the pointless

moments of annoyance in my past

have been just that

I picture the extraction of honey,

the breaking of the wax capsules,

the sweet liquid

flowing out reluctantly

I am as unsure 

how this is well accomplished

as I am how to release

the bright life light

from the capsules 

of all these constructs

Yet I know

there are ways, both gentle

and heat-filled,

in which this happens,

and even right now my life

with all that is sealed away

and all that’s messy

still drips sweetness.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 21, 2017