rain falling like grace
falling grace
the rain can’t fall from —
as every drop falls,
grace is what stays

soft melting edges —
somewhere, the will disappears
and the form begins to meld
with what it’s pressed up against,
yielding, yielding itself —
a bleeding from form
of its essence
till form dissolves

while the essence now flows
with new purpose
and insistence
down the next fall line
into the next crack
onward with ever-seeking
curiosity
into the next adventure.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 23, 2014