Crying is finally
a way to go home,
or the memory of it,
a way to gather enough waters
to lift you out of the dream,
wash you towards the place
where former memories
have no more weight,
where they just shine
like shafts of light dancing in the deep
They come around
to peer into the pool,
to see it fathomless,
to smile and laugh
at all the glints of it,
to see their grace
now made clear
while silent stones
sink gratefully down and down and down.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 6, 2020
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