maybe it was the fresh wind
through the night,
or the spring-heralding sound
of many birds,
maybe it was the dreams
that had me tossing
but in the end resolved to power, freedom
Maybe it was the prayer
that stayed with me, deeper than thought
but surfacing, in song and memory,
at my several wakings,
sweeping in the clarity
of how I am held
safe and beloved
in the arms of morning.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 18, 2017
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