Turn

We are called to this place

by something as insistent and elemental

as what causes leaves to turn,

and then to fall,

as what makes dewdrops form

in the cold moments before morning.

There is no question —

When we have filled our lungs

and feel our hearts made ready,

we will sing —

words we never heard before,

a tune we didn’t know

but which will find its tones

in perfect harmony

with everyone who has been called.

We turn alone

but we are many —

uncountable, assembled

to be the new voice pouring forth

in wonder. Changing everything.

©Wendy Mulhern

November 13, 2013