In the course of days
we are swept up like rain,
carried along to some swift beating purpose,
let to fall across the land
moving at the hand of wind
through encounters poignant and unplanned,
dissipated like mist, lifted by sun,
the immediacy of now
making us forget
what we may have outlined
for ourselves

A more distant eye
will see patterns,
will see destiny, perhaps,
and some higher design —
what we serve, how we bless,
the breath of life that orchestrates
the cycles in which we move,
timelessness.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 22, 2017