Sweet and masterful mom
speaks gently, no hidden venom
beneath her directives
Her children respond
without trauma,
gentle interest
leading their pursuits
In this world where so many
voice their alarm about the days,
this simple presence holds
hope for the future,
we can all learn to embody
these kind ways.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 25, 2017
Consider how these maple seeds
have within them everything they need —
cloistered protection
and precise instructions
for when to sprout, how to become trees
Likewise never underestimate
the power of this now —
everything contained within
to realize dreams:
imagination, memory,
just right alignment
with time and timing,
protection and release,
everything to move in poignant harmony,
all you need
to become peace.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 29, 2016
Sometimes when we get close
we scrape at the edges
of grief and longing, we
let out great sighs, which
have no words to fill them
Sometimes in grief and longing
we grow distant, wishing, perhaps,
to spare each other from the same thing.
Then as we come together,
we notice how deep,
how strong, complex and tender
is our bond,
How much we are committed
to throwing our weight
into the small boat of our hope
and rowing with all our strength
that we may steer it, finally,
to the long sought shore.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 2, 2016
What is given to me this day?
To the untrained eye, my daily bread
may look like struggles,
fear and doubt and lack
But as I learn to see
I understand that what is given
is the abundant meeting
of every challenge —
the fortitude, the courage, inspiration,
creative power to bring forth anything,
whatever has been out of place or missing,
whatever is most needed for today.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 19, 2016
What forms us, what
makes us what we are,
what brings us to this place,
this state of being?
(Certainly it’s early
to wax retrospective,
with this, the greatest work
of our lives, before us)
(Clearly we have seen,
the story of our past is
the product of our present lens,
it shifts with each tilt of the head,
it doesn’t show us anything)
And yet, there is a fullness
in this sunny afternoon
flooded with memories,
there is a fondness
for what we have been,
however foolish
There is hope that all will yet bear fruit,
and all will be forgiven,
there is time
to let our lives unfold.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 7, 2016
No part of you
is beyond saving,
no cords of your life
so unravelled
that they can’t be rejoined,
there are no stray hopes
so lost they can’t be found,
there is no place beyond redemption
Every part of you
must fill the purpose
for which it is designed,
every promise is a hint of destiny.
In the end, nothing is betrayed,
we all come home
to claim our sovereignty.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 4, 2016
In our lives,
only good is given —
The darkest shadow
is still just a shadow,
cast by something
so magnificent
we don’t know how to see it
Dark times are here to show
how deep the love
that reaches down to gather us.
We won’t remember them
as anything but light —
jewels of our journey,
guiding our paths.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 3, 2016
Vessel by Jennifer McCurdy, photos by Julius Friedman
Don’t be afraid —
There is no journey you can take,
no long night you can go through
where you will be abandoned
in the middle
In your tiredest moment,
at the coldest hour,
in the bleakest outlook,
the most untoward turn,
hear your heart:
it doesn’t beat alone.
It pulses in response
to the eternal pulse of being,
indicating, thus, its steady presence
You will come through,
but you may feel at peace
before you’re even done,
for in each step
you are attended by the One.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 27, 2016
The day lightens,
not through any effort on my part.
The sun warms, the load lifts,
the promises assert their buoyancy,
rising like swift bubbles
through my heaviness,
leavening. Filling out
the wispy dreams,
making them solid,
giving them color.
It suffuses me
like blush,
with strength, with hope.
My feet reach down
and settle in
and find their ground.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 6, 2016
Deepening hue of evening sky
imparts a dusky wonderment
that such a color
(crossed, though it is, by suburb’s electric lines)
carries the evidence
of the goodness of everything,
soft promise
that what stretches out
along my life’s horizon
is also saturated
with quiet joy,
enough to cancel out
the long seep of dread
that used to haunt my edges,
enough to fill the whole bowl of my aural field
with golden sound.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 16, 2015