Tag Archives: daily living

Night Walk

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In the space between our palms
(our fingers clasped,
 our slightly swinging arms
familiar and enchanting as we walk along)

In the space between our palms
there is a world
Contained, enclosed, but infinite
in its scale
Planets glide around small stars
Warm energy converges in the center

And messages can be conveyed
across the sphere
Not words, not anecdotes
not concepts and conclusions
not tasks or resolutions
but something better
The simple joy of being here.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 3, 2012


Drawing Lessons

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My hand wouldn’t do
what my eyes wanted
But, it protested,
it wasn’t its fault
My eyes had been unclear
My mind’s eye had been ready
to recognize
but not to direct
It wanted my hand
to bring forth beauty
on its own
But it needed more vision.

They stand in need of some negotiation
Some sharing of a step-by-step relation
The hand, the mind, the hand
to share their contributions,
The work to take more than a single iteration
Yes, I see a field of patience is required
to reach the image that my heart desired.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 19, 2012


Our Room

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It is a room of lights —
vessels of lights
strings of lights
soft lamps

It is a room of color —
reds, mostly; also gold
and greens and oranges,
blues and purples

It is a room of creativity —
Ideas have been born here,
and children
and gifts and poems
and ardent visions

So we return here
to be inspired
to find direction
and regeneration
To feast our eyes
and rest our minds
reset our souls
before we venture forth again.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 14, 2012


Fall Equinox, Home

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My house is cozy
The warmth and the light of it
And the people in it
Our comings and goings
The comfort we give one another

My house is cozy
As the days retreat toward darkness
and the clouds close in
and the house sounds gather
behind closed windows
that muffle the ones outside

It’s a kindly enclosure
Softness and color
Sweetness and sustenance
Loving arms circling
each gift we each bring
All of our rays in concave concentration
magnify richness of home.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 21, 2012


Tantrum in my mind

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There had been a collision
There was trauma — of the peanut-butter-in-hair sort
There was whining and stamping of feet
and one who had retreated 
to a closet to cry
(with occasional backward glance
scanning for audience)
and one who was screaming
and one gnashing teeth
And the drama
distracted the onlookers
from the fact
that what was being asked
was not that hard
and patience was possible
and a good bike ride
putting miles between
the problem and the one who was
refusing to think
could be enough
to reset the scene.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 19, 2012


Drifting Off

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I close my eyes
I turn my sights inside
It’s quiet here, and dark
and undefined
And in the open space
my mind
begins to map
its cryptic pictures on the outward sounds

Before I know it
it has rolled another landscape
across the blank terrain of empty thought
from which then sounds and voices may emerge
And so the dream is woven
and I’m caught
into a world which may enchant,
may teach
Or keep its latent wisdom out of reach.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 7, 2012


Gold

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This traffic
And this rain
And this pink-lined GPS
that shows me not moving
and may be telling me a bogus route
Cannot
In any way
obstruct the truth
of who and what and where I am

I am here
in the presence of peace
in the unfolding of Life
which ever takes
every sunlit and rain-drenched shaft of straw
and weaves
shimmering resplendent gold

Gold of liquid joy-filled richness
Gold of fine illumination
Gold of glowing moments and their memories
Lifting lilting luminosity
into all that’s here
Holding it eternal
where we are.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 4, 2012


Waiting

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The day is holding its breath
No it’s not — that’s just me;
The slate green water, slate gray sky
are moving; a north wind presides
The white swans paddle, 
bright against the matte water
The flat clouds sometimes
send a hint of rain . . .

Nothing is happening
and there is no urgency
No sun commanding worship
No sparkles dancing
No dramatic cloudscapes, no raging winds
No thundershower, no storm
Just the drone of motorboats 
and chirps of closer birds
and the way that waiting
unmoors the craft of time.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 18, 2012


Being Here

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(Mid August, Vineyard Haven)

Cardinal swoops over the roof
Chickadee perches on the screen
Behind the songbirds’ companionable chatter,
Motors roar — boats and planes
Voices rise across the water
Metal masts clang in distant wakes

Smell of onions cooking drifts up from the kitchen
Pale clouds drift across the languid sky
Trees and pond stand still in windless afternoon
There’s space enough between the sounds
for each to take their turn

Later come the crickets
till the soft warm rain silences them
Though it can’t silence
the beat of party drums and tunes
and dance laughter
from the town across the pond.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 15, 2012



Going away

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The days trip merrily
like mountain streams
collecting memories
and undone things
Pooling deep
in new hopes and dreams
Leaving so many intentions
helplessly behind

Then suddenly
the cataract of imminent departure
approaches, and the urgency speeds up
and as the last tasks get tumbled into
or left behind,
In the swift pause before the fall 
I find
a sweet tug:
Gentle pangs of coming separation
Stretching out the net of our connection

All is well
It’s good to feel this pull
It shows
that even from afar we’ll know
the movements of each other—
Each other’s dreams
Each other’s yearnings
Each other’s tidal swells and drops
Lending a harmonic chord
to everything we do
Heartstrings’ duet—
A kind of double view
to all our days apart:
Stretched across the span of time and space
We each will thus hold one another’s place.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 12, 2012