It doesn’t matter what you look like,
it doesn’t matter what you’ve done,
it doesn’t matter what you’ve failed to do

Where did you think your desires came from, anyway?

The bottom drops out
of all your suppositions
and all your tallies are lost
and that’s OK. They never, after all,
had any meaning

Where do you think your desire comes from, anyway?

There is a key
in the very hum of it —
Where does that come from?
— a miracle, isn’t it?
You can’t account for it in any way
except the one in which your place here
is totally assured,
your presence celebrated,
your essence crowned.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 29, 2018

photo by Heather Mulhern