Changed

In the color, in the music, 

in the soft light,

I couldn’t say how I was different

Something like a dark steady draft —

wind tunnel through me like a canyon

whistling along the crevices

indicating a deep passage way

cleared in a couple of hard nights,

something swept away by floods, by winds

Exposing geologic layers,

making space for more wind,

heavy, sweet with rain,

to sail through

All of this is held in the sacred darkness —

few people knew anything had changed me,

and even if they had the story of it,

it wouldn’t capture

the holy, windswept truth.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 27, 2015