We are all alike –
the mice, the birds, the deer,
you and me –
moving through the rounds
of our days, gathering up
what we can use –

A bug,, a bud, a shaft of sunlight,
a song that pierces time and space,
we tremble in the liquid of our being,
we glow in our own radiance of grace

We all are earnest,
we all are laughable
in that particular way
each of us moves

We will be humbled,
we’ll be exalted
shining despite ourselves
down all the tumble home.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 14, 2020