having never touched down
into bone, into skull,
into what can be alone -
having never come to think
that I could be destroyed
or even lost - sitting present
in the sweet company
of consciousness itself,
which by its nature
is comprised of knowing,
and knows the feather movements
and the grand turnings -
rivers of awareness,
oceans of connection -
this being what is me,
this being what is us -
galaxies of bright communication,
universe of intermingled song.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 25, 2023
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