Sucked or stumbling
through the gate,
it takes a while to notice
the steady wind
and how our feet were made
to walk upon it
Our stature fills
and we stride across the landscape,
our footsteps establishing
primal order, our hands
putting everything right
We have been here
longer than we could have dreamed.
We will continue this stride
clothed in potent currents,
sure in our steps,
knowing each truth
just as we need to know it,
on our eternal rounds.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 12, 2015
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