After the dawn extinguished
all the little glows, all the distant
points of light, all the length
of last night’s vigil

As the warmth flows through you,
softening the rigid edges,
as the climbing sun
releases grateful scents
from fronds and blossoms,
you may notice
that every stumbling footstep in the dark
was needed, every little light was real

And though the dawn would come no matter what,
the yearning that you called your life still helped —
it helped you recognize it,
helped you feel its gifts
and reap its prizes.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 21, 2016