Processes

Well, all this postulation,

all these square-edged pages,

cluttered thought,

have held me, for a time,

in a constricting maze

And I have found my breathing shallow

in the halted place

of waiting

while trying to push time,

regretting,

not able to make amends,

feeling the black ink of belittling stories

run towards my eyes

But all these things must fade

against the call of life,

grow weak against the moist soil,

disintegrate,

be swept away

by the bright deep breathing

of the water cycle,

of earth and sky,

and the clear imprint

of the living day.

©Wendy Mulhern

April 9, 2014