Tag Archives: hope

Enemies

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twin ponds shadow

We looked around for the enemy
but all we could see
were faces wanting to be loved —
some with glints of longing,
some with aching hope,
some afraid to even
look up and see

No one was standing
with bared teeth
waiting to devour
or in the inscrutable ice
that blandly wields a pen
to steal the lives of millions

Instead we saw the power
that kindles kinship from afar,
that brings each one back
from dim benighted stances

We saw the incredulous
but then willing
dropping of forms,
of roles, of strictures —
we saw the relief,
grateful and repentant
of coming home.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 25, 2015

“Goodness and mercy shall follow me”

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pond and goose

Goodness and mercy
will be in my wake
in the places I have been
after I’ve gone through

Goodness and mercy
will be the result
of my presence
like flowers blooming in footprints

All the days of my life
So I shall dwell
in the happy certainty
not only of having done no harm
but of blessing

I shall not want
for all my hope
is thus fulfilled.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 22, 2015

Christmas Eve

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Christmas Eve

Look how perfectly
(though inadvertently)
the scene has now been set:
The gaudy lights and cynically
commercialized tunes
finally driving all light
out of the celebration,
with Christ’s name now so fast affixed
to vengeful, hateful opposites
and the supported pastimes of the season
so bereft of any sense of hope

We have achieved the ultimate:
a night dark enough
for it to really matter
that truth still breaks clear,
that the inevitable dawn
of that which always draws us close,
tenderly washes us as we approach,
till we’re delivered pure
to where we’ve always been
but didn’t know,
where we are dearly loved
by our eternal Source.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 24, 2014

Hope

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mint1

Hope is not dashed —
Though it be cut down,
all green sprigs gone,
its truth remains
persistent as mint
sending runners wide
throughout the underground of thought

In its inevitable time
it will surface
in strength collected
from the soft release
of everything that dies.
Vigorous in fragrant, purpled green
hope will rise.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 3, 2014

Overcoming

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sequoias

“none might buy or sell, save they that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name”

In this time of
the mark of the beast
we find hope
in the brightening
of simultaneous paths
appearing under our feet
and guiding us in ways
where none of us is marred
by trademarks, brands,
where we can see each other
not as types, but whole,
unique in what propels us
and the arcs of our circles,
unpredicted and surprising
in each moment
of the steady sweet exchange
that fills our souls.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 23, 2014

Waiting

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I wait for inspiration
as cedar boughs wait for dawn,
foreshadowed in a subtle definition,
a whispered dark emerging
from the darkness,
imperceptibly gaining clarity
until they stand in silent, muted green

And then suddenly
dawn blazes through,
lights them up with gold
suffuses them
with incandescent glory

I wait, for
sure as dawn,
it will come.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 30, 2014

“I will gather them”

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twin ponds tree1lomo

The internal call is promised —
There is no one it will not reach.
They will be called from within
by their own truth,
by the imperative of their life,
by the enduring fervency
of their love

They will not stay scattered,
each one thinking
what they are is not enough,
that it’s too much to ask
for their gift to be valued
to the point of being able to sustain

They will no longer close off hope
as if it were a wound,
won’t lose themselves
in efforts to conform

They will be gathered
by the radiance
of everything they are.
It will lead them to the circle
where all the light is magnified
and they are celebrated,
and nothing will be wasted,
and there’s ample room for everyone inside.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 28, 2014

Pre-dawn

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pre-dawn

There is a time before dawn
when it feels like it will take
a long, long time
for that thin hint of light
to reach across the huge curve
under the horizon,
and all of yesterday’s heat
has dissipated
and a deep cold has settled in,
and your vigil might be intermittent,
sometimes driven under
by fleeting clouds of sleep

It feels like it will take
more waiting than you can endure,
But then the light
leaps across the whole sky
and glows behind you, too
and the stars hold their peace
and morning comes.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 11, 2014

Year’s End, 2013

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There will be no falling, this time,
into the end of the year,
no tumbling of untallied days,
no cache of uncounted hours
to not expect, but then to have
for languid wandering through paths
of memory . . .

These days are still measured,
still ordered — needed for the steady
mounting for the launch,
in rising hope,
into the next ascent.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 29, 2013

Dawn

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When he wakes up each morning
It takes him a while to remember
the nightmare has been banished
from his waking world

Though it had sat there many years,
a dense cloud that dulled all light,
dead weights along his limbs,
a constant punch of dread against his gut,

It isn’t here now.
It’s gone.
There is a light scent of sunlit dew,
of snow from distant mountains,
There is a catch of breath
and a bubble rising
from somewhere deep within,
There is a new day,
and the power of his ancient balance
reclaimed

There is love to live
and life to love,
and it is plenty.
Yes, it is enough.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 21, 2013