falls hollow. And takes up space
like dust and clutter, till I clean it up,
till I abandon it for silent waiting
to hear what's really true fill up the space
It fills with words that sing like sweet rain
(scent of cilantro on my fingertips)
and bring no sentencing, no consequence
for anything we did or did not do
They bring assurance
that we were always more than what we thought,
large as our comprehension
of our God.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 3, 2022
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