And if I can’t play the music
that drenches me
with the presence of beauty,
that flows down my arms
and fills my mouth
and ripples me with shimmers
from the sun

Perhaps this standing in it
is still worth something —
perhaps this gratitude
for its existence,
this rising joy, all-in reverberation
still serves a function —
gives the music someone who believes.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 1, 2020