Tag Archives: work

Building

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We go each day to the house
to see how we will be built,
what skills and insight, what endurance
will arise in us to meet the day’s demands

For we do not come static
to any task, nor do we come
with a collected stash of virtue
to test ourselves against what is required

We come to grow, we come to change,
we come to learn,
we come to be made new,
to be transformed,
and more than what we make
with wood and nails and stone,
this will be our building,
this will be our home.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 24, 2019

Circuitous

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Well, a straight path
to any goal
is either an illusion,
or the path and goal
were made by someone else,
and so the goal itself
is really not a goal

We must be kind
both to ourselves and anyone who’s striving —
no one arrives without
what could be seen as setbacks —
there probably was really not
a better way to go,
and where we went
(and where they went)
is also probably
not what it looks like
to anyone observing from outside

That’s what I tell myself
about our roof —
so many storms, so many leaks,
so many temporary measures
which made their own troubles,
until we finally — let’s hope it’s sometime soon —
arrive at where our house is safe and dry.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 23, 2019

Necessities

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I didn’t brush my teeth last night,
didn’t write a poem either —
daily necessities overridden
by the black rolling of roof underlayment
racing against darkness and the predicted rain,
and no motivation to cook by lantern light
and all the restaurants closed or far away

I didn’t write a poem last night
or brush my teeth either —
just crawled in bed,
but all is well —
everything is still here in the morning.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 22, 2019

Between the rains

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The rain has given us a break —
we work in silence,
finding it more harmonious
than the questions and projections
that would otherwise fill up the space

No need to annoy each other,
no need to talk about the things we cannot know.
After the window closes,
we’ll do the next thing that makes sense,
taking in the necessary factors
that will reveal themselves by then.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 16, 2019

Bending

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The straight line of our intent
begins to meet the season’s curve —
bracken fern starting to turn,
and trees along the river

Garden plants have given up,
the coming rain too late,
other factors we can’t see
informing them
their time of growth is over

No longer can we count on
stretches of long, sunny days —
they shorten, and the rains
begin to take their place

We will bend, because we have to,
we will find a way,
our intent will weave itself in,
for the circle belongs to us, too.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 8, 2019

At the work site

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How does it feel
to be a crayon among nails?
Your purpose distinct
but immeasurably far
from the other ones sharing the pocket

Your substance, which never could manage
to do what a nail does,
is suited for doing a thing that they never could do —
they will sink into wood and remain there,
you’ll leave your mark on the surface and stay where you are

There will be times
when the hand reaches in
and picks out the nails one by one,
but at other times,
it will reach through their sharpness
leaving them, searching for you.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 1, 2019

Still

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In the evening the wind stills,
and the work, though it continues till dusk,
is quieter — no thrum of generator,
no flap of windblown plastic,
just the intermittent buzz
of the skill saw, and the thunk
of extra rafter tail hitting the dirt

Later, we, too, will be still,
still in the aftermath of work,
still hefting lumber in our dreams.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 25, 2019

A Book

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A book is growing in me like a child.
It bumps against my insides
from time to time

I hum to it
when I think to,
I settle into the gait
of its weight

I sense the course of its development,
chapters like ears of corn,
words like the kernels

Things remain mysterious,
like how it will all come together —
it isn’t mine to pry the answers out

A book is growing in me
like a poem. It will come out
when it’s ready.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 22, 2019

In the course of things

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Turns out it’s good
for wind to blow through the house,
for windows to be open

I freed a hummingbird today
from plastic we had placed to keep out rain —
it fled my hands
and so got further stuck
until I broke the sheet away
and it escaped

The swallows still fly in and out,
but with the windows covered,
they got confused —
one had to make a stop inside,
perched on a rafter
before it could complete its outward swoop

Yes, we’re in a race against the weather,
but the game has its own rules —
apparently, for now, we need to make room
for others to play.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 12, 2019

Resting

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We settle ourselves back
into our closer orbit,
we give ourselves permission
for a moment’s rest

It has been work, it has been growth,
it’s been excitement —
we were willing, we were driven,
we pushed ourselves beyond our edge

Now we return —
it may be just a very short pause
before resuming our stalwart pace —
for now we’ll take the time
to be still,
take time to drink
from the pool of grace.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 11, 2019