I start to sense —
with some surprise —
the essences of which I am comprised,
And they feel more like
softly potent nebulae
than any former figure of myself
They gather forces, lift,
roll in,
like clouds, like seas —
They shape-shift as they fly,
They gravitate like spheres,
Encounter others,
Slide into their places,
Harmonizing vectors
Who am I now?
— Something far beyond
the stories, placing me
in static scripts and roles,
Something I may learn
as I unfold.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 9, 2013
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