Tag Archives: grief

A New Life

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Though I see light all around me,
it’s still my time (it seems)
to walk in silence

There may never be a time where I say
look, this is the way to do it —
by the time I get there
everybody else will be there, too.
That would be fine with me —
I’d love to never tell anybody anything again

Maybe instead we’ll just
build a new life for ourselves,
here on the land —
a life that offers shelter and encouragement
for those who need this place, this light, this time,
for those who, for their needing, we will need.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 20, 2018

These Days

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These days the bottom falls out of us
at unexpected times.

It could be a good thing,
dropping us through
our soggy cardboard efforts
to hold ourselves together,
down to the waiting, changing land,
the rain and all the spreading seeping
and the tender sparkles
of returning morning sun.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 9, 2018

Answers

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I ask myself the questions
but I don’t know how it happens,
don’t know how all these distant things
come together,
how we collect what we need,
how we join the pieces just right
so things really work

There are so many arenas
in which I don’t know this answer

But I will note that,
in this one instance at least,
when I cried,
when I confessed my helplessness
(and after I had failed)
the answer came in
all by itself.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 5, 2018

Progress Report

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Baby steps toward healing —
being able to talk about it,
recognizing there was nothing
we could have changed,
given what we understood then,
given what we knew

Nothing that, had we done differently,
could have brought a different outcome.
Nothing short of
the salvation of the whole world
could make a difference

So there it is —
what could have helped us then
can help us even now.
We turn around and face the place
where dawn will come.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 28, 2018

Now you see it, now you don’t

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It isn’t that I’ve lost the will to live,
it’s just that I’m so tired
of how I keep on running back
to the same old holes,
empty though they’ve always been —
keep on anticipating
that my thirst will finally be quenched

What does it take
to not be left again along the bank —
to ride the flow all the way down
to where I lose those habits
of seeking where there’s nothing
and missing the deep healing of the day?

©Wendy Mulhern
May 24, 2018

My life now

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I learn the nature of myself
by what floats
and what sinks,
what opens up a grand expansiveness,
what traps me, lost, within its maze

I let each feeling have its say —
some leave me helpless,
some make me strong,
some will remain and some will pass away,
some are empowering,
none are wrong

I won’t direct the process
but I will be sifted,
I will not save myself
but I will still be lifted,
I’ll let the truth distill
the deeper gifts,
that shine the will to live,
that fill my life.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 22, 2018

Tree Therapy

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We walk hand in hand,
we look at trees in the park,
we feel the warmth of the sun.
Some things we don’t need to talk about,
some things we do

I had a dream in the morning
where our girl came back to us
at any age she wanted, at any time.
I counted it for true
and I was happy,
but it didn’t end the need to cry

There’s much more to us
than the stories we could make about ourselves.
Every part needs to come along with us,
every part needs to be healed.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 20, 2018

Errands

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I walk these steps as if they were floes,
shifting under me like something
that sits on liquid —
I am surprised I don’t feel more jostled

Something steadies me. Something like
light projecting my image over this surface,
so I’m never really needing
to catch my balance

Where I am exactly
is not clear to me, nor am I sure
of where I’ve ever been.
But it feels right to be here
and to keep walking.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 19, 2018

Navigating

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We tried to go back to the old hills
but they were gone, tried to navigate
the once familiar paths,
but after walking them awhile
we could tell that we were blind
and couldn’t see the markers

Strangely, we could also tell
that we had never seen them —
we had been content with blindness before —
now we can’t abide it
and we would rather
not take any steps except
when walking in the light,
not say anything
unless we know it’s true.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 16, 2018

Mother’s Day

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A rose may be shared,
as also, perhaps, a child,
or at least, the ties of motherhood

This didn’t come out as we expected,
did it, my love? But no matter —
it can be another thing we laugh about together

You, me, your dad, your brother —
we’ll all have a good laugh at this,
next time we get together,
next time we take a walk along the beach.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 13, 2018