We pick ourselves up,
we bumble forward.
There is little to be gained
by second-guessing
But much is gained
by reassessing
what we are here for,
what powers our days
Let’s have no more irreverence
where reverence is due,
no more complaining,
no dogged powering through,
more cheerful patience,
more open gratitude,
and all in all,
more closeness to our source.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 24, 2021
I notice
it is my choice
if I am wimpy,
if I say, mixing concrete
is too much for me,
or at least, I sure dislike it —
the heaviness, the dust,
the scritchy sound,
the muddy mess of cleanup
If I say so, I will be weak
at the prospect of moving the bags,
I will express my distaste,
my visage will be sour
I may become emotional
and tell myself I’m played out,
and tell myself I just need to go home
But if I do that,
it is my choice. If I prefer,
I can choose strength and sunniness,
and growing capabilities.
Something to remember,
something to put to use.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 16, 2018
Rain on the windshield,
people in the parking lot
walking with their choice of
hurried, cringing, or nonchalant
I imagine rain
soaking into their sweatshirts,
I’m hoarding warmth
as my parked car cools down
People find ways to survive
or they don’t. They find resilience,
they choose laughter, or they let rain
soak into their bones
and let their spirits be dampened
Me, I’ve done both.
It’s a choice I make
in all those times
where I’m not immediately overwhelmed
by some external magnificence,
when it’s up to me
to bring my shine into the day.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 17, 2017