Evening light washes through the house,
most of its heat relieved by wind,
but apparently still able to zap me
with the memory of noonday sun,
the sweat and the burrs of the work with wood,
and how I wanted to sleep, after
So we will take a small rest,
wait for the sun to go behind the hill,
and then prepare for our day’s final task –
to heft the crusty dusty logs again.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 23, 2023
Before it gets too late,
before my thoughts begin
to fold in on each other,
collapse like wilted greens to where
they’re only fit for serving up in dreams
Before the sun
stops skimming in across the floor,
presenting charming patterns
(and also every piece of fallen hair)
I’ll take this piece of day
and put it here
Robin singing, breeze, now gentle,
through the open door, last sun in the garden
giving its farewell until tomorrow,
summer being kind – bright and not too harsh,
our lives still reaching tendrils
towards their purpose.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 9, 2023
At day’s end,
behind my closed eyes,
strands come like roots, mycelium,
from every quadrant of my vision
Steadily they fill the center in,
images and memories
webbing with each other …
These summer days are long and full,
and quickly I lose the threads,
everything devolving into sleep.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 26, 2023
When I breathe deep, I smell bees,
and suddenly the scent of everything
is opened to me – how the June air at evening
is rich with blossoms and resin, ripe grass
and some distant spice,
and inside the ag building,
sawdust and pencil lead,
various minerals
We work until after dark,
though darkness doesn’t come till 10,
we savor the sky, and the satisfaction
of work done.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 24, 2023
Summer stretches out before us,
and where, in former years,
I felt like I could ride it,
fly in freedom and delight
along the long and carefree days,
now I feel I need to carry it –
bring these plants and projects to fruition,
keep these trees alive
A flock of blackbirds cackles through,
landing in groups of five in tops of small trees,
in groups of twenty on the roof.
Two mama turkeys have a fair sized brood,
growing larger daily with no help from me.
We saw a doe with two small fawns last week.
The waxing crescent moon, and Venus,
are seen a little higher in the sky each night.
We all will take our place in the grand order.
My work has a place here, too,
and as I carry, so will I be carried.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 23, 2023
Days start a little later here
but stretch out even longer –
plenty of time to grow, and keep growing,
from small seedlings into big plants,
swaying strongly in the strong wind,
taking what is given by the strong sun
I feel bee-like in my steady buzz
from task to task, taking strength
from every specimen of sturdy growth,
surprised to feel a slowdown in the evening –
I had felt I could go on forever
In the process, I am learning home,
sharing of place, rhythm of days,
essence of Spirit that holds us
in our harmonious ways.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 15, 2023
I drift into afternoon,
high on the scent of bees,
frayed hope bannering in north wind,
waiting,
Filled with aromas, intelligence
being the one most strong, most enticing flavor –
so many different forms of it
melding together,
Summer is on my eyelids,
and the weight of it, collosal and sweet,
I can feel in my chest’s rising,
rising and release
I will understand my life sometime,
all the glory of it,
the colors and textures,
all that weaves and interlocks,
bee mind, and mine.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 20, 2023
September rides two horses,
one foot on the back of each,
reins held easy in one hand –
the horse of summer and the horse of fall –
they gallop down the days
in the same direction,
in perfect step,
manes and tails and breath mingling,
providing an exhilarating ride.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 8, 2022
The last glow of evening
marks high summer over,
though we will have more heat,
and the dry wind isn’t done blowing
through the trees and grasses,
but the loop of temperature
is entering its long ellipse again –
as soon as early evening,
open windows will cool the house
We feel the changes,
we feel the overarching calm,
and though there’s so much we’ve yet to master,
in yet another mode (for they are infinite)
hope will find its way to rise.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 6, 2022
Evening coolness begins to flow in
through the tops of trees,
deeply welcome
after the day’s heat
Everything has meaning –
blackbird song and colors through the windows,
the ponderous importance of everybody’s life.
Even moths and dandelion fluffs
have infinite weight
in the balance of eternity,
as do you, my friend,
as do you.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 27, 2022