Tag Archives: daily living

Dawn

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When he wakes up each morning
It takes him a while to remember
the nightmare has been banished
from his waking world

Though it had sat there many years,
a dense cloud that dulled all light,
dead weights along his limbs,
a constant punch of dread against his gut,

It isn’t here now.
It’s gone.
There is a light scent of sunlit dew,
of snow from distant mountains,
There is a catch of breath
and a bubble rising
from somewhere deep within,
There is a new day,
and the power of his ancient balance
reclaimed

There is love to live
and life to love,
and it is plenty.
Yes, it is enough.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 21, 2013


A Staider Day

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There is a satisfaction
in crossing “i”s and dotting “t”s,
Not like the rush of flight,
not like the sweet epiphanies
that bounce, exultant, on my inner walls . . .
It’s a prosaic peace,
but worthy, nonetheless,
A nourishment that’s good in moderation,
A staider note to give a base for spices
and ground the fledgling efforts of creation.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 13, 2013


Cold Snap

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Now we’re here
and what we thought we’d do
has been subsumed 
by all the day’s particulars —
the cold,
the sun’s low angle
(bleak, oblique, but warming through the glass,)
the newly rising urgencies
and their disjointed rhythms —
times of waiting spaced between demanding tasks —
So we stay home
and move within the small circles,
try to settle in,
protect the center.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 7, 2013


Mental Housekeeping

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I.
Well,
I can’t argue
with someone I don’t know,
(as ground shifts beneath me like water)
who clearly wants to set forth
a strong opinion,
and who hasn’t heard me
and doesn’t want to.
Let it go —
There may be common ground
with that person —
Just not here.

II.
No need to identify
with proffered bargains
for something less
than my whole being.
No need to settle for pain,
or for complaint,
or for a muddied, stagnant
view of life.
Right here in this day
are seeds from eons back
waiting for this perfect moment
to spring forth.

III.
When no excuse
can really cover
a stupid oversight,
and nothing in my makeup
can explain it,
and its implications
arraign me in a wrinkle of character
that time won’t smooth,
it’s OK to go back
and ask for a redo.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 29, 2013


Forward

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Your arms full of tools,
your face full of sun,
you face the task at hand
armed with resolve.

And what would ever hold you back
except those voices, that can only say
“you don’t want to do that.”
They are as insubstantial as shadows.

Shadows can chill you,
but only when you’re not moving —
their bars can’t hold you in.

How bright the joy
of going forward —
Your movement, not your fears,
thus your defining substance,
your goodness not in theory
but in action,
your life not in the future but in now.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 24, 2013


Dignity

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I have dignity,
he said,
and it was true
and we were glad 
to know he knew.

This navigation
through the floes
of people trying out identities,
the lurches and convergences,
the flowing, the repelling,
calls for vigilance
against submerged projectiles.

It’s good to have a solid grasp
of what of you can bend
and what must stay unmoved.
You have dignity —
It serves you well.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 6, 2013


Afternoon nap

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I wake up
to the lazy intersection
of dream and evening noises,
of sleep-infused limbs,
and the slow wheel of reflected headlights,
window-shaped, across the ceiling.

It’s hard to rise
from the compelling coziness
in the place where the threads to the day
have dissolved,
hard to drag myself away
from the sweet tangle
that pulls me languidly
into its spell.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 5, 2013


Fall

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Let me take a little time
to be dry,
dry as my mouth against this headwind,
dry as the crunchy leaves on the trail.
Let me take a turn
at the inward curl
that is done emoting
and waits to receive,
not needing to do so in any length of time,
not being watched for a reaction,
just breathing,
just feeling.
Grant me the abandon
to let myself fall.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 28, 2013


Lifting

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And on the fifth day
the fog lifted —
not just the fleeting thinning
where a pale disk of sun
almost comes out,
but the revealing
of a deeply generous sky
and free reign of a splendid sun
that shone through brilliant autumn leaves
raising them from bright to luminescent.

(They had already been warm enough,
against the grey skies, to lift my spirits —
today they affirmed what also showed
in my internal landscape —
the lush detail, the depth of perfection
with which each leaf, each cell,
each object in the universe
is defined.)

©Wendy Mulhern
October 23, 2013


Catching Up

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It felt good
to sit on the deck
weaving stories out of memory and light,
while the fog thinned
and hummingbirds chipped and whirred
through the old cherry tree.

It felt good
to finish the edges of that yarn —
to see it whole,
and then to come inside
for tea and conversation
(our voices calibrated
so as not to wake the sleepers)
morning rolling towards noon,
while steller’s jays
riled the little birds
and colors glowed brighter
against the clearing sky.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 18, 2013