One day you’ll wake up feeling fine —
the dread that sullied
so many of your early mornings
gone — you’ll feel, within,
the strong light rising,
pure as blackbird song

For this, this bright upwelling,
is what you’re made of,
what you’re made for, too.
The thin veneer on which anxiety is etched
must wear away,
leaving nothing but the true,
which overcomes,
which carries all the days.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 17, 2018