Thursday, January 17, 2019

Missing Someone


Something leaps up quick
behind my eyes. It could be tears,
the slow sting of memories,
could be frustration,
but every time I head down that path,
it seems I end up
in the same place

I taste that missing someone
is bittersweet. The sweetness
is indeed a potent force,
the sorrow seeping slightly after,
not overwhelming the brightness
but softening it.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 17, 2019

Wednesday, January 16, 2019

Today’s Lesson


(to myself)

This lesson is for you alone —
don’t try to teach it
to anyone else. It is your job
to use these lenses
to see how this person
(the one with you or who you’re thinking of)
is blessed, beloved,
incomparable

And there’s no such thing
as needing to improve
(not even for you)
and it’s not your job
to make anything happen
and it’s not your virtue
when it does.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 16, 2019

Tuesday, January 15, 2019

Harvest Now


Lest I be overwhelmed
by edges, the places beyond which
I cannot know

Lest I toss my anchor
into shrouded future
and be pulled on and down
into its undertow

Let me stay firm,
focused on here and now,
let me find the depth
of what I do understand —
what I experience,
what I can harvest
as surely in this winter
as many seasons later.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 15, 2019

Monday, January 14, 2019

A large place


You come into this place
where all is forgiven —
this place too big for indignation,
too big for shame,
too big for being right,
too big for having thought
all of those small thoughts
that kept things in their place
and called some things impossible
and other things unfortunate,
that called some people good
and others bad

This place is too big for any of that.
So you look, clear-eyed and amazed,
surprised at what you never knew before
but certainly are sure of now.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 14, 2019

Sunday, January 13, 2019

Ice Edges


Before today I never heard
the chittering of ice
or seen the way waves change
as water freezes —
ripples split against the frozen edge,
some rolling over,
some undulating under,
emerging preternaturally calm
but suddenly refracted
by fractured floating floes

Others have also been here
and also tossed rocks
to see if they would stay or sink,
they, too, may have been amazed
by the constant conversation
and the musical propensities of ice

Others also walk on ground
that bears years of memories, 
their path can sink subtly into the past —
they can relive the former times
just as carelessly,
even as today lays down
new views and thoughts and feelings
to be revisited another time.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 13, 2019

Friday, January 11, 2019

Center


I will sit in the calm of
what I know I know,
I will let its sweet reminders
quell my concerns, remove
the shadow of anxiety,
the push to make changes,
the constriction in my throat,
between my eyes

I will blink clear
remembering
everything is given us,
we are not abandoned

We are each the center
of ourselves, and each receive
the clear signal of our essence
from the very closest place within

So we intuit our cause
without a single pulse of separation,
so I can be assured
why I am.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 11, 2019

Thursday, January 10, 2019

On Hope


You may ask
What is hope made of, anyway?
How does it manage to rise up,
how does it bear us across
so many empty, lonely days?

It’s an important question
because whatever it is,
it’s not made of 
all these things that fall,
all these things that fail

If you can see
what hope is made of,
you can also tell how it works,
how it is anchored in a world
where all the light in this world comes from,
how after all the turbulence
has come and thrashed and gone,
it still glows.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 10, 2019