A place that’s warm can give me
permission to cry — kindness so often
sets me off, I don’t know why —
I don’t know if it rolls me onto
the underside of long and steady courage,
if it makes my vigil seem bleak, if it allows
a setting down of strength,
and if this flood is something
I just needed, or if it is
a detour from the program
and does no earthly good
I don’t know why, but I feel
grateful and unhinged
both at the same time.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 4, 2018
The day has pressed its paws
into my lap, claws mostly sheathed,
the insistent kneading
accompanied by soft purr
I have offered my attention
but perhaps was more distracted
than I noticed — maybe didn’t give
the approbation it deserved,
maybe didn’t take in, with enough wonder,
the unparalleled glory of its presence.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 16, 2017
My places of gratitude are many —
this chair, this lamp, this dark night,
comfort of companionship
and this vast realm of thought
where music can bring images
and luminous ideas can dart
in swift, branching lines,
delineate new order
and make a framework
for understanding everything.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 8, 2017
And in these mostly indoor days,
these indoor preparation days
of dusting and of vacuum cleaning,
sorting through and seeking meaning
What thoughts emerge, what entertainment
plays upon my mind? What dreams
might I remember, what stories
do I find?
And have I caught the blessing
of the half moon through bare trees
at four? And of the birch leaves at noon
that left their limbs like a flock of birds?
And the moments, and their gratitude
when I notice the particulars of the day?
©Wendy Mulhern
November 27, 2017
Be thankful for the day —
it is enough
to tuck the old man in,
to see the comfort
of soft sheets around his chin
It is enough
to have accomplished
the simple tasks
and to have felt the soft burn
of inner fire, curling
at the base of being,
connecting us to eternity
and the truth no lies can cover
and the clear direction that it gives,
untouched by any turbulence of time,
bearing us silently
into our role
as keepers of the stars.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 9, 2017
I woke up grateful
because good is the only power
and in my struggle
against all that is evil,
I don’t need to take
a mean-spirited stance,
don’t need to commune
with comeuppance
or deal in retaliation,
don’t need disgust
or even indignation
I woke up grateful
that the best I can do
is to fill my soul with
the presence of goodness.
When fighting hate with love,
love is what counts
Love effortlessly deconstructs
the structures of oppression,
love casts no one as villain
but liberates us all
from the mazes of pain
I woke up grateful
that the work of my day
is so joyful, so boundless —
to let Love lead me,
to eagerly follow.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 10, 2016
I am thankful
for my love of music
and my love of color
and my love of friends and family
and my love of strangers
I’m thankful for my love
of wind and rain, of trees,
of wild waters, sun and skies,
of light and motion, and fluid patterns
I’m thankful for my love,
because all these things are wonderful
but if I didn’t love them,
I wouldn’t know.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 24, 2016
I am grateful for flight
and I am grateful for calm,
grateful for blustery wind in early morning
before the sun crested the east hill,
grateful, too, for the warmth the sun infused
in wind-danced leaves
and sun squares through windows
and the cool warm aliveness
of stepping outside
in moments between my indoor
work and watch keeping
There’s much more in this day
than I have fathomed
but I am grateful
for what I have received.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 25, 2016
We worked together.
It didn’t matter
that the rain roared through
from time to time —
We were given enough pauses
to move forward. We were given
maybe two sun breaks
and maybe two sun showers
We were given equanimity
and an easy rhythm
and some signs of progress
and now after dark,
rain settled in for the night, it seems,
we are given gratitude
for its forbearance
throughout the day.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 17, 2016
We start to know time
by different signs —
When the crickets get louder
and the turkeys make their afternoon rounds,
there are three more hours of daylight
and dusk will come soon
The work we started
when the day was wide and hopeful
now looms against the light’s boundary
like the shadows that now stretch
across the valley
We stop when it’s too dark to see
and evening’s light show awes us
with its ever-different glory.
Time to pause
and let gratitude rise from within,
about two hours before the stars begin.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 30, 2016