not resolutions, not a trajectory,
not a thing to chart and measure progress
and feel good today, or else feel bad
This is the dropping of everything —
unholy mess, colosal clatter —
this is the shock of light occasioning
complete disjunction from what went before
This is the calm beyond the conflagration
where you find out it never really mattered,
this is the waking up after your dream
where morning’s truth provides your sure defense.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 12, 2018
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