In the pre-dawn hours,
tossed on a sleepless shoal
by the roil of dreams,
trying one more toss
in hope of finding peace

I was delivered
by a rolling cloud of light
that bore my innocence aloft
as on a pillow  –
the reassuring rush
that who I am
is fully acceptable,
that whatever sordid stories were enacted
in my dream or in my waking,
they didn’t need to stick to me

I could be carried on this truth:
that I was made to be
exactly what I am,
and will be so maintained,
and guilt and worry could fall away
like fog from rooftops –
the sun would shine on me
and show me free.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 20, 2021