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
On some days
I let the soft rain
give me permission to be soft,
while the landscape fills in
with soft green,
and I do very little,
while the rivers move
under the whole ground,
pulling all water
to them and down
The soft clouds reprise their motion,
wind running through them,
their goal as drifty as my own.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 4, 2023
Signs of a day well spent
rest on my eyes and cheekbones –
more than the gift of warming sun
and cooling wind, and work outside,
this sense of symphony
(haunting sweetness of the oboe,
deft arpeggiation branching through the strings)
surrounds us in a hallowed circle
All is well, and all is held
safe in the hand of harmony –
we live our lives as prayer and art
and work and joy and play.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 16, 2023
The sun came up behind me
and gave me a giggle of joy –
not only for its shining, but for the gift
of having work to do outside,
and having done it,
and the promise of more tomorrow,
and the prospect of becoming competent,
able to hold all this life in my hands
and see it come forth.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 11, 2023
And as for the things I was thinking about,
in the air that feels like spring
while frogs sing in the north pond,
and the list of things to do
is long enough
that whole categories routinely
drop into the void,
and we feel good if there’s one thing
we can check off the list
(though fifteen more creep onto it)
I forget what I was thinking about,
or what leaves me this odd contentment
while the fire has warmed the room
as evening slides towards night
and our moments, while prosaic,
show small signs of the gravitas
of eternity.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 6, 2023
This will not be lost
(phrases snatched
like images from dreams,
nothing predetermined
nor tallied, after the fact)
This doesn’t need to be a riddle –
it can be the sweet way you find yourself
after a full day – weathered,
suffused with heat,
dry after the day’s cold wind,
feeling the strong contrast of the indoors,
thin but solid shell against the roving night
You find yourself within,
at peace, clean, ready for sleep,
willing to let fears and worries go,
learning to trust what holds you safe.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 23, 2023
Satisfaction – good work,
good time spent, good place,
rain coming after outside tasks were done,
rain-framed coziness
bestowing time to read,
gratitude felt all around the edges
of my attention,
less for all this beauty and comfort
than for the underpinnings which hold us safe
and guide us steadily
in the direction of our hope.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 3, 2023
The sunset clouds looked like angel wings to me,
though my camera couldn’t see it –
I wouldn’t mind if they delivered rain
(more than the two drops that fell on me in the garden)
They could be angelic bearers
of needed cleansing for the air,
and moisture for the soils,
and quenching for the fires –
I would be happy for that …
Right now I’m happy for
a day with good work in it –
beginnings and direction,
enough labor to guess what it will take,
enough progress to make it seem possible.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 20, 2022