Light on the water
teaches me to move,
teaches me to think of myself
not as one thing, in one place,
but as the fluid impulse of the moment —
eternally what I am,
just now the beam that dances
on the water’s face.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 7, 2017
For one moment the sun today
looked like the moon last night —
white disk with clouds around it
A moment later
light flooded out of the circle,
the limit overcome, the essence revealed.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 4, 2017
As taught by tending fire,
having words for these things
doesn’t mean I know them
The fire teaches me
to pay attention,
the rules that I’m applying
don’t need more refining
so much as faithfully adhering
So in fire tending
I go wordless,
letting the flames do the talking,
letting them draw
their foreordained conclusion.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 19, 2017
Seamless, memeless,
October slides into its second half,
morning dew replaced by morning fog,
pine needles falling
Strong south wind blows through bright sunlight,
bringing, mid-afternoon, its signature overcast,
chill creeps into the house,
I turn on the heat
Vigil and comfort by turns
occupy the twilight,
earlier each evening.
What we are made of,
springing ever new,
will bring us through.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 16, 2017
The wind is periodically
throwing little handfuls
of what might be rain
against the skylight
The weather is welcome,
even after yesterday’s
almost impossibly round
full moon, and its light
through the windows,
through the night
Today fall has swung wilder
with the excitement
of turning leaves and tossing wind,
sun coming and going,
clouds darkening patches of sky
Now at night
we are grateful for heat
and being inside
and having had some good strides
through the dramatic day.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 6, 2017
Dozing into the arrival
at our land, passing between
cliffs of clouds and blue banked sky,
needed desired rain
and needed desired sun
and the question of which
would attend our arrival
Eyes closed, the landscape still rolled out,
the narration borrowed
from some other world:
“They grasped each other
by their suppositions,”
I heard, before opening my eyes
The sun shone through the rain,
mist rose up from the road
and blew across. The dream
was also worth watching
after the long trundle,
blurring the question
of where, exactly,
we were arriving.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 18, 2017
Cold water is no problem
once you get used to it,
especially as sun warms
despite the breeze
Eventually full submersion
is well worth it
for the layers and layers of sparkle —
clear water, sun reflection, skin tingles,
wind drying, shadow dancing,
sand shifting softly under feet
and freshness that endures throughout the day.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 26, 2017
(which sing to me while I am resting)
The one to the many,
the many to one,
a way to find livelihood
under this sun
and still have integrity
when you are done —
it’s a puzzle, yes it’s a puzzle
The guy on the trail
with a guitar and flute
must have found a nook somewhere
along the slough,
I hear snatches of singing wafting down,
twangy, not clearly in tune
I’m charmed by the willow and wind,
fronds with their soft invitation,
decorous, gentle, still leaving distance,
me hoping they will swing closer
Some big fish
makes mysterious flops
in the water —
the ripples are dancing,
the shadows are, too —
as for me, it’s time to head home.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 24, 2017
Summer is kind,
pockets of peace offered
in wind, in the play of light in leaves,
in shade. There is a lightness
that lifts thought like a kite,
dances it against the high currents,
brings new sight
Summer is replete
with memories of freedom
playing like breeze across the mind,
still impelling the thoughtful to dream
of liberty for all mankind.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 20, 2017
It is the time of honeysuckle,
the time of abandon
where vines wander and tangle,
where forbs race each other up
to the flower dotted tops
of their foliage
And birds are coaxing their young to flight
and it feels like there’s enough time —
enough time to get lost in,
enough time to find your cause.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 19, 2017