What heals the flesh? What can fathom all the layers,
the impresses of moments,
the memories?
What kind of tenderness
can reach beneath all that is hidden,
can comprehend
what has been deeply felt
but then suppressed,
what still remains although the mind
has long forgotten?
What perspicacity
can sense the secret signals
waiting to be awakened
so that they thoroughly confound
the surface suppositions?
It takes a light that renders flesh transparent,
that can't be shrouded, since it sparks a source within,
it takes a moment that is like a thousand years
to show the innocence in which all flesh is held.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 3, 2020
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