Beneath the pale etchings I have called my life,
something momentous moves,
something that fills out
more dimensions than I can count

Something so ultimately satisfying
that all I have attended to before —
all the inept scratchings,
all the lines I tried to set  in place,
and what was scribbled over all my efforts
by other hapless hands —
amount to nothing

I settle myself
into the deeper motion
and am at peace.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 14, 2018