Teach me this way of moving
through the ephemeral —
swinging on shafts of light
too thin to hold my weight
yet somehow able
to pass me from one to the next
Teach me to hold without grasping,
just tight enough
to slide along
to the next bright thing
I can’t quite grasp
but which may send me
on down the bright lines
Sustained by nothing I can touch here,
held up, in some still dimly comprehended way
by something I can’t see
the source of all these lights
which, in its time,
shines me home.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 25, 2015
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