We name it an adventure,
we let the hours accumulate
until they rattle
in the darkened house
The outside weather
has some say in the matter,
but we are quite comfortable
even with less electric
We name it an adventure,
and that’s important,
for that naming gives us what we need
to get through darkness,
to power on.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 1, 2022
It’s evening, and the things I’d love to do
line up behind the chores,
which briskly assert
their right to go first,
and some of the other things sigh,
thinking they’ll fade away again
for who knows how long
Still I am grateful,
for the chores, too, and how
I’m well set up to do them,
and maybe one of the other things
will get the happy surprise
of being tended to –
mending, or reading, or writing –
I’ll sit here by the fire and see what comes
to fill my hands and mind.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 30, 2022
The eye can gaze on beauty,
on the dance and glance of color –
how one settles into another,
how the conversation of contrast
and family membership
can keep one entranced
Well, me in particular –
I keep delighting in the colors,
how enchantingly they blend
and set each other off,
and catch reflections of each other
in their sheen. They sing to me
as if I had chosen them,
as if I had planned this all out.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 24, 2022
I wake up grateful
to be living in the house,
to have its warmth and work,
its frame and vistas
I wake up grateful
to be living in the world,
fraught and perilous though it may seem –
it is the least I can do
for the life I am given,
my most honest standpoint
for seeing the day.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 31, 2021
Today I felt the satisfaction
of taking the long way,
the path without shortcuts –
the value of chores that send me outside,
the pleasure of each step
that brings me into contact
with the creatures of the land,
their daily lives
Today I felt the satisfaction
of building a bench that we needed,
from old wood we used for the forms
for the house’s foundation,
with tools and techniques that I’ve learned
through these years
And above all, today,
I was satisfied
to feel companioned by my source,
to feel release from thinking
I was on my own.
Today I reaped the gentle joy
of walking in the harmony of Life.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 16, 2021
It’s strange to find ourselves
living in the house
(although it’s not finished,
although it’s not furnished)
And to think how these walls,
this roof, these doors and windows,
keep us warm and dry –
a place that wasn’t even here
four years ago,
a place that couldn’t shelter us
till now
I feel the wildness
of the great outside,
just beyond the walls,
all around the house,
the daily swings
of temperature and moisture,
that we can step out into
and commune with anytime,
but can be shielded from
when we want.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 8, 2021
Today I found it better
to be working
than to be wilting,
to defy the beating sun
with steady movement
Today I found
that joy springs up
in the doing of a thing,
in the stance of thought
that harbors no excuses
Afterwards, we had earned the right
to sit and talk and dream
even as darkness settled in –
we had lanterns to see with
for supper and showers,
and well-earned sleep
at the end.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 15, 2021i
Today we had
no rain, but a fair amount of needle fall,
no work (at least not much)
but a fair amount of dreaming,
some planning and some cooking
and some basic gratitude,
a fair amount of peace
and half-acknowledged plenitude.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 5, 2021i
Some days, things we count on fail –
the camp stove rusts out, the showerhead
gets blocked, the jar that holds the knives
breaks at the bottom
And though we thought we had no time
for tending things, we have to stop –
clean up glass, replace
the knife container, showerhead, and stove,
and in the pause to fix things,
life gets better
Some days I’m just happy –
the summer rhythm folds me in,
and time and progress
get a different measure.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 5, 2021
Walk into the quiet,
feel your footsteps echo
open up the doors
and let the wind blow through
Try this: the screen doors, almost closed,
will whistle, even howl –
close them all the way, and you will hear
the birdsong again, and distant traffic,
and ravens holding court across the field
Daisies are rampant in the fields,
and bracken fern beyond them –
everything has shot up fast, yearning
towards seed
And as for us, we’re just working
on learning to be quiet,
how to be quiet, and still progress,
how to be quiet and still
while wind and sun progress through summer,
how to inhabit our house with mastery,
how to inhabit this house enough
to find it finished.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 18, 2021