In quiet gratitude
like evening sun after a weekend’s rain,
I see the vista of our life
rolling out in possibility
Maybe we really can have
fruitful trees and grains,
maybe we can realize our vision,
maybe light can pour as grandly
across our inner landscapes,
and we can walk together there
husbanding peace.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 30, 2022
I looked for a way
to kindle a small fire,
I sought to nudge the glimmering coals
close enough together
to keep each other warm
so that between them
a flame would dance again
Here, too, I seek the dancing flame,
a thing shared,
enough proximity
that we’re reminded
we share this hope
and when we see it in each other
it will rise.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 14, 2022
No aspect of your life
can be left out
when grace touches down,
as it does without fail –
as it answers the cry
of every part of you
to be seen and tended
You’ll feel the seeds of hope
lifting their heads, you’ll feel them reaching
for something you may not see,
and so they show you
the nature of the love
in which they open,
strong, resplendent, free.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 7, 2022
Riding the high of the day’s beauty –
clarity of air, and so many
elegant plays of water –
sun rays through vapor,
raindrops on trees,
fog lifting, clouds drifting,
all of the scents wide awake
Riding the high of the day’s beauty –
long worked-for things coming together,
hope coming visible,
the deep anchoring truth of our being
pulling us into clarity,
focusing us in joy.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 20, 2021
The situation rights itself,
yesterday’s prognosis notwithstanding,
storms clear, light rests softly on the sea,
reflections ripple, colors pass smoothly
through each other
And hope turns out
to have always been there, its reason
as clear and solid as the rocks,
and smiles come easy,
former strain forgotten
If talk of casual lies,
of being broadly cast as enemy,
slump into view,
don’t be dismayed –
lies can only pass as truth
before the truth is seen –
our collective witnessing of truth
will wash the story clean.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 1, 2021
I will agree
to not go backward.
We can pause, we can rest –
that’s good – it lets all the ripples
catch up to us, it lets
the consequences of our revelation
settle into place
It is well to take the time to celebrate
the new green, the new calm,
the ready place for long waiting seeds
to swell and sprout, and start to branch
into new understanding
It is not going backward
to take all this in –
it’s just allowing time for new hope
to bear its tender fruit.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 30, 2021
Could be teardrops,
could be raindrops,
could be the tiniest kiss of cream
as we come toward the end
of this puddled afternoon
with a cup of coffee
and some small pools of hope
scattered and deflected
like droplets on my glasses,
and we will be OK,
yes, ultimately,
we will be just fine.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 25, 2021
Hope rests on our days,
it takes the light like morning fog
after the sun has freed itself,
sifts and accentuates the rays,
makes us look up
We’ve given up counting on things,
given up counting altogether,
learning to let hope rest like rays,
felt but not sat down upon,
seen but not grasped.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 23, 2021
This time I wasn’t even surprised
to see my brand new beautiful hope
get taken out for a thrashing –
no easy, luxurious dawn
for the truth I glimpsed – instead,
a winter wind, anger and tears
I suppose it makes sense
for hopes to prove their mettle,
to catch the storm in their sails,
to drive me forward
And it did right itself, before day’s end,
did bring in some kind of fruit,
did prove itself able to stand,
showing its strength through its trial,
showing what hope is for.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 8, 2021
These days, I follow the lines of my hope
like sun rays, up through trees,
like tree limbs, along their reach,
their skyward thrust
It becomes clear to me
that none of us pushes up from nothing,
nor do we push up towards nothing –
we are clasped in the vision that we yearn to,
and the perfect searching
of every seed
into the essence of itself
is like our own journey,
day by day,
into our full appearing.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 18, 2020