I’m keeping it with me,
a calm like a coal,
a small, centered glowing,
a soft source of warmth
The size doesn’t matter –
its potency dwells here
where it can expand
to fill all of the house
Though it may seem tiny,
it still bursts forth merrily,
brightens and cheers me
and fills me with hope
It dwells at the still point
of all that I am
and centers me
back to my home.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 14, 2021
Having stood now more than once
being the flame,
feeling the light and heat that radiates,
and surer than at any time before
that this is me,
that this is real,
that in this incandescence
is the core of everything
I’ve ever wished to be
I step more quickly forward
to the heat, I offer my full surface
to the transformation –
whatever is at hand within my day
I give as fuel
so I can see and be
the radiance again.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 6, 2021
It feels like it should be a metaphor
how my skin has taken in this image –
the dance of embers
when the fire is almost gone,
the way a gentle setting down
of slender sticks
will make them jump – jump and
glow and strangely reappear
further down the coal
where all was dark,
and if the sticks are light and dry enough,
and close enough for company
(but not to crowd)
there will at some point be a “ploof”
and fire will have returned,
merry and vivacious
It feels to me like so many things –
some which would be trite to name,
some clad in so much wonder
I can’t utter them.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 31, 2020
For.the fire.to thrive,
the air needs a free exit.
True, it needs an open space for intake,
but that is not enough –
if it’s held in, if it is clogged at the top,
the fire will be air-starved,
it will grow cool and dull and orange
and cloud up the glass door,
which, when you open,
will pour smoke into the room
To have a clean fire,
the chimney trap
needs to be free of soot
so air can get out
as freely as it comes in
I’m thinking this is also true
of gifts. That gratitude glows bright
in the breath of generosity,
and love – love needs
a constant letting go.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 30, 2020
I thought I saw a little cat
sleeping in the end grain of the wood,
glinting orange as coals,
a little gray around the edges,
but my camera couldn’t catch it,
focusing instead
on the licking lights
And then the image faded from the wood face
and the warmth that filled the room
during the roaring of the fire
kept getting sucked out
to the coldness of the night.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 25, 2020
We won’t talk about hope
before its time.
We won’t talk about rebirth
while there are still hot embers
on the ground.
We will acknowledge
each thing gets what it needs
right when it needs it
Pick up what’s true for you
here on the ground. If it’s mourning,
do it heartily, honestly, wholly.
If it’s gratitude for how important
you now know life to be,
for what you found right under
all the desolation – hold that.
If it’s the life that roars in counter burn
against destruction, then roar with it
as long as that is needed
You may notice, at some time,
the web of care that rushes in,
you may feel a deep relief
that all is not lost.
You may come back with new resolve
and fresh humility
to be a part of this, to deeply live.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 12, 2020