I can’t walk easy
along the paths I used to walk,
hedged by familiarity,
bordered, more distantly, by fear.
I can’t pursue the old hopes,
flanked by worry, with the protections
of bravado and blurred vision
I have to walk
now as ever
in the clear bright world
that has always been here, too —
a plain without paths,
a presence without arriving,
being caught up in the offering
of myself, like a mirror,
to the light.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 8, 2018
The day has its gifts,
they require of me no planning,
just the openness to see them and receive
My worthiness
requires no earning,
just the willingness to be
open eyes to bring the moment home,
grateful heart to notice where I’ve come.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 28, 2018
It is good, I suppose,
that the hardest work of my life
be now, that there be no hope of
sliding into comfort, letting go the reins,
letting the next generation take over
I would find such comfort meaningless,
as much so as the offerings our culture sells
(having stuff, being stuff, doing stuff)
My need remains, for once, to find
what really heals the moment and the world
and it’s worth working for (this I tell myself,
though I feel so tired)
this I tell myself, knowing that it’s true.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 23, 2018
I don’t even wish
I had understood these things sooner —
they render such desires irrelevant.
Loss is gain, life propels us forward
I have clearly reached the place
of the divide of my life line
written on my right hand (not my left)
that I had wondered at since childhood,
told myself maybe the left is what counts for me,
being left handed. Maybe palm lines
mean nothing
In any case it doesn’t matter.
There are no circumstances which
avoiding would release me
from the journey I’ve been given,
no failure on my part which could deprive me
of the path where I’ve been sent.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 13, 2018
As to the question of
why I am here:
I am here for this moment,
here for this healing,
here for the cup of
whatever fills my day
The puzzle piece I am
is not improved
by trying to make it more
like other pieces
that have already fit in.
The puzzle piece you are,
likewise, will not be helped
by alteration
It is not mine
to choose another cup
but to drink this one
and be satisfied.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 3, 2018
We get into the rhythm of the work,
pneumatic nail gun and the air compressor,
the scratch of asphalt shingles laid down against each other,
the soothing arc of our repeated motion
It smells like blossoms when we stop and notice,
the air is warm enough, cool enough too —
while many pieces of our lives are scattered,
this work is something we can do
The birds are taking up their evening chorus,
smells of people’s dinners join the breeze,
it feels like it’s a mode we could continue
for another couple years at least —
could be the course we take, the path we climb
unless, until, we’re lifted out of time.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 21, 2018
Dust and pollen have sifted
through the quiet air,
the soft breezes,
warm and wistful,
have lifted
the scent of lilacs
and brought it here
I will reach through this
drifting afternoon,
to find the prayer
that knows the heart
of all these living things,
and brings me there,
where I, too, can know
my core and highest cause,
where I, too, can be the message
long awaited, gladly shared.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 8, 2018
We will claim our purpose,
we will walk in it,
we will be as one with it
as it gives us power
and we propel it forward
We will be inseparable,
for, in fact, how could it be otherwise?
How could we be here
without our calling,
and how could our calling
exist without us?
©Wendy Mulhern
March 31, 2018
You don’t owe loyalty
to past stories,
you are not bound
by what you’ve done before
You are not bound by thoughts
or what you think people expect
or by trajectories you launched
from where you were
You are here now,
and what you are
comes to you fresh and pure
in this moment of your being,
in this moment of receiving
what is given you
and what you’re called to give.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 11, 2018
I am with you
because we have found a way
to gather, as a thing distilled,
in the condensing places
where whatever mattered
from our words, and from our efforts,
what we noticed, what we cared about,
is concentrated in the quiet that we sit with
and shines the crystal brightness
of what’s true
I am with you
through and after all our struggles
because, willing or not,
we have been pressed to this purity.
Having come this far,
nothing else makes sense.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 9, 2018