I hold the blessing
in the laugh behind my eyes,
in the warm spots on my cheeks,
and in the warble that burbles
in the place where I might speak
It isn’t mine — it is a gift
passed to me freely, just an hour ago,
not me alone — given to many,
and I imagine
they all took it home
As I assume also it will multiply
as mirrors magnify,
as smiles create a surfeit of good will,
which cascades outward
touching people who
don’t even know each other,
though they’d recognize the kinship
with anyone in whom they saw the light.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 30, 2019
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