Every time I think of it
it feels like the moment after
a tub of cold water was dumped
on my head —
The breath-arresting shock, the ragged
gasp, the rush of cold and wetness,
the persisting dripping,
rivulets pushing past my ears and eyes,
a pounding pulsing of my head and heart,
the tingle filling everything,
and the exhilaration as it clears . . .
It’s so astonishing
I keep on thinking of it,
keep on being dowsed with the surprise —
How I never grasped before
how much of what I thought was true
was just a ruse,
how long I’ve let myself be disempowered.
Shocking it is —
the stirrings of awakening
asserting the dissolving of a dream.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 11, 2013
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