And if I ask myself
the reason for my joy,
I may consider how we breathe beauty
in sight and scent and sound,
and how we work humble —
ready to serve and learn,
and how in all this
(constant as cricket song)
we are borne up
by the presence we’re coming to recognize
as our own,
as it is given us
in the midst of every day.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 12, 2019
Consider your capacity
to bring joy,
for it is the great gift
you share with every living thing —
it is what rouses you, what feeds you,
what makes you feel alive
There are so many ways,
small and large, that your being does this,
just like these trees,
just like these flowers,
just like these people working,
doing their job well,
just like the swallows that fly chirping
through our open house,
the sheer delight they have in living
lighting us up.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 3, 2019
To bring in range the choir of heaven
consider what it means
that there be no more death —
not now or ever — that the whole veil
be drawn away, and we perceive that
no one, and nothing, has ever died
If there has been no loss
of loved ones, or of wisdom,
or of life experience,
of ancient ways of knowing,
of lessons dearly learned,
of birds and animals,
of fish, of trees,
of anyone who loved them
That whole choir of ancestors
and children, and newly resurrected hope
would fill the realm of home,
would fill infinity —
Yes, I will be there, too
and yes, I too will sing.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 5, 2019
You brought the fresh wind in with you,
you brought exhilaration,
the momentum of swift striding
and moments of being at your best
I took the time to share with you
some of that breathing,
some of that joy at just-right-ness.
It’s worth a lot —
an investment, no doubt,
sure to enrich.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 28, 2019
In the realm of Spirit
there is no rationing —
You will rise like morning
drenched in joy,
you will drink freely
and light will flow liquid
across the whole page
of your day.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 23, 2019
There is a truth I can’t tell you,
so I’ll wait
to hear you tell it to me,
knowing you will do so,
as it is the best news
of a moment, a lifetime,
and you will find it wonderful
and unsuppressible
It will pour out of you
like birdsong
and I will rejoice.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 27, 2018
There is a way forward.
Joy, it turns out, is unsuppressible —
it pushes its way through rocks,
through roots,
it moves sideways, as it needs to,
but ever up — it finds the surface,
it emerges
Joy, it turns out,
changes everything —
past, present, future —
brings the sense of things
into startling focus,
into sparkling view.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 29, 2018
Some things, certainly, are endless —
the variety the sky gives — this morning,
fog turning blue before it lifted,
day stretching sunny and kind,
sunset (though we were almost
too tired to look) graced us
with its colors through the trees
I had, perhaps, ten minutes
to sit down (after I made the meal,
before the cleanup)
and at one point, in the golden, royal evening,
I thought I might run out of joy
but some things are endless,
they dish up infinite variety
when I am willing to let them in.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 10, 2018
Getting further down the line
of what I’ve called my life
I find that many things
that seemed of ponderous importance
make no difference at all
Whereas what really matters is
the times we’ve laughed —
the way they make a path
down which it’s easy
to laugh again, catching each other’s eyes
at the top of a giggle,
opening up the corridor
through which joy can bubble —
joy and belonging and some
wonderful forgiveness
for any former blaming
These places along which we’ve laughed
define the ways we know each other,
give the flavor of our family
where we come back, so eagerly, to drink.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 31, 2017
(a bicycle song)
We seek it in the loneliness,
we seek it in the kindness,
and the bright chinks in stories’ walls
that lead us up from blindness
and in the shining memories
with embers that remind us
times of play,
times of laughing raucous play
We wish to ground, we wish to fly,
we seek the perfect union,
we thought we wanted glory
but we really craved communion,
the words were fine but what was wow
was when we put the tune in,
and we could sing,
we could really sing
We battle down the myths
that box us in our little walls,
each at our place of passion
till the massive structure falls
and what we didn’t dare believe
is obvious to all —
we are joy,
we are made of joy.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 12, 2017