After this, I’m hoping
to remember to surrender daily,
or more often, as needed,
to give up all the small accumulations
trying to accrete,
to make themselves be something
and to fool me into thinking they are me

Ach — let them all dissolve,
may their lurid blooms float up
and dissipate
in the springing forth of what sustains me,
in the burble lift of purification,
the constant renewing of my place
in the unity of being.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 9, 2020