It wasn’t explained to us.
In fact, it was a secret,
guarded, mostly, by misdirection
though somewhat, too, by outright lies
We didn’t know how each moment rises
to meet the kiss of truth, the sun-warmed love —
bright ripple radiating outward
in the moment’s consummation
Each moment of each being,
morning, and evening, and at noon,
out and out along the gleaming sands of day.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 7, 2018
No comments:
Post a Comment