To weather these times,
we ride on what we know will fly –
music, or touch, or high fantasy –
we find what takes us high
to keep our heads above the rising mire
Whether these times
encompass the swift end of all we knew,
or herald the bright dawn
of what we know must come,
we’ll need the touchstones
of everything we love
to bear us through them,
to bring us home.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 31, 2023
As easy as a yawn,
as easy as a comfy chair
with plenty of light,
as easy as a conversation
with memories and things to do with hands,
the afternoon and evening settled in
It has been an easy landing
from the place we had to leave,
and easy place to stay inside,
since we have to
We can call it a cocoon for now,
we can get ready
for the time, coming so soon,
to jump back in.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 13, 2020
You have huddled so long
in that poison refuge
that you may have forgotten
how it feels to breathe deeply,
how it feels to stretch out,
to relax, to bask in the warmth
of belonging
You have been surprised
that others haven’t come to join you —
you wondered where they went —
did you suspect
that there might be a different refuge?
— One that would hold you
in a bountiful affection,
one that didn’t require venom
on your part, or anyone’s,
one that didn’t have
those soul-effacing rules,
the bitter bite exacted for admission
I’ll tell you something true:
if your refuge breaks,
or if you leave it,
you’ll find another.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 3, 2019
And if your refuge fails you
or if it says you’ve failed
and thus cannot avail yourself of safety
Or if your refuge
is put in question
by someone else’s sense of truth
Or if the solace it provides
has grayed, has faded,
has been rendered hollow
Don’t be afraid.
For even as your demons rage
and push you towards the center,
as the edges crumble
and your space grows smaller
You are already redeemed.
You were delivered
even before the dawning of your first day.
Your substance is secure,
your realm is infinite —
you need no refuge,
for you own your grace.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 15, 2019
And if, today, I offered refuge,
and if, in any way, it was received,
if I spoke truth about a living comfort
and if, at least in part, it was believed
Then I, too, can ride along the lift lines,
I, too, can share the haloed glow —
the gift of refuge, offered freely, will afford me
peace I otherwise might never know.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 12, 2019