remind me of the bright strength
that waits, quicksilver, for me to ride,
always safe from any efforts
to frame it stiff, subvert it,
remind me of the over-welling love
that floods out all attempts
to make it small
Not what I own,
but what is mine
by virtue of belonging
in all that is,
not what I thought I was,
but what I am,
ever surging with the infinite.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 26, 2016
No comments:
Post a Comment