(to my mom)
You have prepared
this place of openness
so that the scent of blossoms
and the beauty
in the shapes of trees
can go right in
(not asking for permission)
just flooding you —
You light up with them
and with the quiet calls of birds
and with simple presence —
We are here
and that is good —
that is enough.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 10, 2014
(after a night flight from Seattle)
The day was striped with joy —
Bright reunion interspersed
with times of sinking under,
giving space
for the wired attention of travel
to slide away
into insistent sleep,
from which we would emerge,
hands numb, groggy,
and rise again to energy,
remembering
that we are here
in this time of triumph
and coming back together
and steady family love
made sweeter
by the time apart —
Worth celebrating,
watching the competent backs
of our children,
now walking in comfortable harmony,
on their own but still connected,
solid in their new lives,
heading home.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 9, 2014
No guilt,
of being found
with the impress
of a wound, stamped
in the sad and haunting image
of a wound
that you always have detested,
that you scorned
as it, in turn, was spurned
by countless others
in your place
who wished
as deeply as do you
they could be free
No curse
upon the generations
no alarm
no stain upon your visage —
You are pure,
as pure as all the others
down the broad and brilliant
pathway of your line,
For when you lift your head
out of that dream,
you lift them all,
and when you’re lifted,
you all, together, shine.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 27, 2014
May you emerge bravely
from that tight, sad place
which breeds such desperate loneliness
in the family-sized scrabble
to be seen, to find respect
(the sense of home
so compromised by struggle)
It might be best
for you each to forge your way alone —
leave the family voices
behind for a while —
The love is there,
but its application
is an advanced problem —
better to start with the relative ease
of friendly strangers . . .
May you invent yourselves —
find a new face that will
let you give voice
to who you’ve always been
but haven’t dared express,
May the broad sky embrace your courage,
May you gain comfort
in the arms of new-found friends.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 9, 2014
for Edward