These days, I follow the lines of my hope
like sun rays, up through trees,
like tree limbs, along their reach,
their skyward thrust

It becomes clear to me
that none of us pushes up from nothing,
nor do we push up towards nothing  –
we are clasped in the vision that we yearn to,
and the perfect searching
of every seed
into the essence of itself
is like our own journey,
day by day,
into our full appearing.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 18, 2020