Twilight sets in at 4:30,
and with it, rain, and satisfaction
at having used the day well,
being outside and moving projects forward
as weather allowed, being ready now
to shift into indoor tasks
and inward work,
rich in the light and heat we gathered
in the brighter moments of the day.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 10, 2021
Bring me home –
I am willing to come contrite,
I am willing to come silly,
I am willing to be seen as I am,
however long I have resisted it
Bring me home –
I am willing to be cleansed
as I go, to let these crusted edges
fall away. I’m tired of pretending
that I know stuff,
I am willing to be led by the hand
It’s been a long time in this hamster wheel,
driven by illusions of progress
and falling behind –
I’m ready to be done with time,
to have all of its structures
proved to be nothing –
no huge monstrosity
needing to be corrected,
no pit we can’t dig ourselves out of
I’m willing to be part
of the great awakening,
eager for you to bring me home.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 12, 2021
Thank you for standing in the rain
with a lantern,
trying all the known tricks
to make the hot water work for me
after your cold shower
and even after all efforts had failed
and I was starting with my cold shower
in the cool rain
The hot water that suddenly came
was so lovely, so welcome,
and the chance to get fully clean
after this muggy day
so appreciated!
As are you, in your rain jacket and boots,
having put things right,
climbing with your lantern to the well house
to turn the power off.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 12, 2021
In threads of the prosaic,
when I’m feeling far from poem,
here are things to bring me back
to my words-bejewelled home:
You, cheerful, through the speckled paint
that makes you look like Father Time,
me, tickled, through sporadic rain,
that I can wash my hair just fine,
The breakfast that you finally
had time to eat at two,
the fire to make things cozy
that I tended just for you,
the progress on our project,
moving through its awkward phases,
and still affording grace
as I am honest with my praise.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 24, 2021
These days it seems the best pleasures
are not the ones we plan,
but those that swoop upon us –
hot shower in the rain,
gust of cold air as I walk
back to the cabin, fire-warmed within,
small expressions of appreciation
for our work, each with our separate tasks,
mutual understanding,
the sweeping sense, at wee hours
of the night,
that all is well, that goodness reigns
and never lets us down.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 28, 2021
My house, my lineage,
my house, my home,
my house, my consciousness
and everything that flows through it
If this earthly house were dissolved,
it would just prove
the underpinnings of the place I dwell,
unmoved, ever restoring
the self-contained interior
of what’s infinite.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 4, 2021
In the morning
I seek out my Spirit home –
sometimes it’s right there,
sometimes, as today,
it seems a long journey –
it seems dark, it seems drizzly,
puddles settling in again to places
the sun routed them from yesterday,
platitudes trying to referee my thoughts
But Spirit is all present
(thank heaven for that!)
and there are many places
kindly held open
for that awareness to seep through
I may exert great effort
(not letting go until I’m blessed)
but my effort doesn’t win it –
Omnipresence, finally,
is what finds me home.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 5, 2021
This coming home feels like
birds returning from afar,
while bits of tattered fabric
flying in the rush that gathers everything,
are finally abandoned
as the pull proves more substantial
than what’s being drawn there
This coming home is where
the gathering force
gives place to stillness,
quiet pools of light
in which mirth bubbles up
because we are all here now
right where we belong.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 9, 2021
I started to think about
what would be comfort –
end of day, sun gone down,
cold cabin waiting dark,
food to prepare
I started to picture it –
someone to care for me,
some place of light and warmth
where I could rest
The images slipped away quickly,
shifting and melting, canceling out,
till all I had left was a golden glow
and a feeling of worthiness
from having loved
So I knew that I had what I needed,
beyond and above the wood for the fire
and the place I could sit
and the noodles to eat
I knew that I had what I needed,
and that was comfort enough.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 6, 2020
When all the places I’ve called home
have failed me, when I find myself
at the clench before the fall
or even tumbling,
then I may also feel
the gyroscopic whirr,
the inner humming
of my balance
righting itself,
And I will start again
to find the home
that can’t be taken,
contained, as it is,
in my true essence,
centering and grounding
everything I see,
assuring me of landing
on my feet.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 18, 2020