What could befall?
I will not allow
the course of my life
to be turned
And yet land falls beneath me,
a sinkhole, a swallowing,
the sudden downward shift -
how to maintain footing?
And where can I land?
An image has been forming,
appearing, as out from fog,
solid, but only sometimes seen -
a citadel, a rock to stand on,
a place that will not shift,
that will stay with me,
whatever changes ripple through,
whatever seems to disappear
I will learn to feel it
under my feet,
I'll learn to find it,
and I'll stay here.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 29, 2022
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