We’ll keep on holding
the tail of this beast
though it lashes
and the beast bounds through mountains
and low limbs threaten
to wipe us off
We’ll keep on holding,
our arms just barely strong enough —
We’ll brace each other,
our clasp together
strengthening our grasp
We’ll have no time to notice
all the little things that otherwise
might take up our attention
but in some brief moments
as we catch our breath
we may notice
that we’re flying.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 28. 2015
Don’t be afraid
that you might lose
the bars of colored light
that bend so generous
through leaded glass
and now adorn your walls —
bright gems to cheer your day
Don’t be afraid
for cheer comes through
in countless forms —
through mystic fog, in birdsong,
in all the kindness
that can fill your thoughts
The color bars
are just a token —
they convey a message
but what renders them enchanting
lies within.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 26, 2015
I will pay quickly
I will end my connection
and walk away
I will not be involved
anymore
I have paid dearly
for my blindness, for my
neglect to heed the subtle signs
But the price, perhaps,
is not that bad
Perhaps in this failure to find trust
I have learned to place it
on sounder ground —
Perhaps in this severance
of dubious dependence
I build a firmer trust
within myself.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 19, 2015
Many small actors
help my equilibrium return —
the recognition of an old friend,
a planned reunion followed through on,
lots of other little things —
Nothing momentous
or even relevant,
just the quiet footsteps of life,
each thing moving for its own purpose
on its own course
These things together
set down a patchwork of peace,
calm the roiled landscape,
re-establish my presence,
find my ground.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 30, 2014
Our preparation is like snow falling,
small flakes landing here and there,
the first ones fading, white to wet
on roofs and pavement,
disappearing silently
into the grass
Later it may thicken,
accumulation quick enough
to form a lock — crystal fingers
holding bridging structure
against the melt,
And before we know it
we may be transformed
stepping softly
into the opening world
of our next life.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 22, 2014
The longest night
comes and passes by,
Clouds scud across the dark sky,
Stars reveal that they were always here,
through the day, through the rain
Wind walks the hooded land
in its efficient stride,
Trees and chimes make comment,
Thoughts glide,
moving like the wind
along the canted
planes of observation,
ever slanting towards tomorrow
and the steady flow of everything
through the timeless changes
of ever cycling life.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 21, 2014
Snuggle me
for I’ve been playing the grown-up
for too long —
heaviness tugging me down,
hard knots in my forehead
Playing the grown-up
with all of its hang-ups,
studying contracts,
haggling with language
Snuggle me —
Somewhere within
is the timeless and ageless
core of my being
where wisdom runs totally clear
Let your heart reach me there
where the sweet currents
wash away every care,
smooth out the tangles,
free me from worries,
free me from anguish,
from those conundrums
offer release,
rest me serenely
in snuggle-deep peace.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 14, 2014
I have restrained myself
from noticing too often
how close this day lies
to the one last year,
how instant the return has been
to this place in the cycle
Fall to fall, time of fruition
to the last one, things accomplished,
things which, though they’ve gone through convolutions,
and many permutations,
seem uncannily the same
I try not to mention how surprised I am
how fast the moon wanes, then is full again,
or note the blip of weekends,
one quick tick after another —
like second hands, they sweep around
As for moments, they seem mostly full
and mostly singular. They don’t roll by
as rapidly as years. That’s why I try
to keep my focus here.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 13, 2014
The urge for hibernation,
held, till now, at bay
by so many color saturated
delightful days
receives a strong inducement
from the sudden cold —
seeping through the weave of clothing,
tightening my skin —
and the soft contrast
of the heated house,
and the early dark outside
Why not succumb
to the rumbling and rolling
sweeping world of dream
as folded and layered as covers
above sleep’s turnings,
wild as any autumn cold snap,
enticing as the blankets’ cave
of inner warmth.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 12, 2014
Within the warm enclosing orb,
a concentrated calm,
a softly emanating glow,
a home, a welcome balm
Come in, come inward —
Here is the essence of cozy —
This house, this room,
these people,
This place inside yourself
where you are content,
where your inner lamp
warms your corners
and draws your world
into your embrace.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 8, 2014