Motes

 

Long after dark, as night drifts on,
I wait for motes to settle,
but they don't, they float -
what do they know of gravity?

I sink deeper into myself,
beneath the weighting of importance  -
everything is equal here,
everything is loved

And nothing that aspired to dominate
can touch any of this -
its motion and its stillness
are undisturbed

What holds them here
stays close around them,
cushions their essence
in perfect peace.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 26, 2023