The journey is to great for me —
I am brought, once again,
to my knees,
I have wrung myself out
and hung myself to dry
and will be slowly converted
as with soft wind blowing through,
the song and sun between the trees
I will be won over
by blessings which must be just here,
though I don’t see them yet,
and will stand forth strong again
after a while,
rested by my ride.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 10, 2019
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