Tuesday, July 31, 2018

How You see me














I start to fathom
what kind of vision You must have
for everything, for entities defined
as yearnings, small and large —
yearnings that flood 
through holes ripped out of lives,
yearnings that strain
at the seams of convention

(like water yearns to find its level
and will eventually overcome everything
to reach it)

You see me not as stasis
but as that bright liquid
which You, with a touch, can free.
You, with a touch, can teach me
to quench my own thirst.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 31, 2018

Monday, July 30, 2018

Can you feel it?














Can you feel what holds you
as well as these birds can,
diving and darting fearlessly
from the tall trees?

Can you feel it bear you up? —
such a gentle touch, with room for air
between your feathers —
room for you to breathe
but not to fall

Hold still, and see if you can feel it
guiding your steps, your work, your thoughts,
ever in the place where the bright surge
of joy, of life,
pours clearest through your being.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 30, 2018

Sunday, July 29, 2018

Send my roots down














Send my roots down
where they’ve never reached before —
the land is arid,
the former streams are dry

Send my roots down
to the hidden corridors
protecting the secret,
connecting the trees

Let the ancient, strong alliance,
feeding everything that touches in,
be what sustains me,
be what grows my trunk 
and greens my limbs

Send my roots down —
it’s a long drought on the surface,
but here underneath,
we’ll share the streams.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 29, 2018

Saturday, July 28, 2018

Mellowing














Today I am grateful
for small mellowings,
a little less edge to the heat,
a welling of happiness
softening the ragged edge of torment,
a day to be less driven from within,
to enjoy putterings
and how the moments knit themselves together
constantly, in wind rustles
and insect buzzing
and the contented chirping
of a few small birds
living, as always, for joy,
joying, as always, in life.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 28, 2018

Friday, July 27, 2018

My Life














My life is a shed skin.
I move, now, in a different being,
stretch and curl myself
with a vibrance not my own
in which I work daily
to hold without owning,
inhabit without habit,
affect without affect —
a being in which I labor
to be true to what is true.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 27, 2018

Wednesday, July 25, 2018

In this heat














I think of
streams in the desert,
water to a thirsty land,
my soul longs for
something deeper than survival,
something that acknowledges
what holds us together
is richer and more comprehensive
than all these factors
and won’t allow us
to shrivel and die in the heat
but provides, from within,
that which makes us thrive.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 25, 2018

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Show Me














I have pleaded my willingness
many times before, so it seems dubious
to hear myself say no — now I’m serious,
as if at all those other times I wasn’t

Still I’m asking once again —
I really need to understand
the Valley of Bones,
“it shall be well”

I’ve said the words but thought the facts were final —
that what has died is fully dead and gone,
but here I am, daughter of man,
and I say “Lord, thou knowest” —
show me where to look to see Your truth.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 24, 2018

Monday, July 23, 2018

Summer evening on the land

















The evening chirps of turkeys
are almost as refreshing
as the coolness that hasn’t come yet
(though I expect it soon)
— something like the sound
of bright cold water drops

I know enough by now about their language —
this chirping is the dialog of mom and chicks:
I am here and you are here —
let’s gather in this place
and call it home —
we are safe when we are here with you,
you are safe with me

They’ll fly up later into trees,
the mama birds will spread their wings,
the chicks will snuggle in.
The cooling night will magnify their coziness,
its quietude a lullaby for them.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 23, 2018

Sunday, July 22, 2018

Tansy














The heat will have its say
and tansy ragwort has had its way
with our fields — bright yellow proclamation
of ground disturbed, outrageous brilliance,
enough to out-radiate
the scorching day

We will wait in shade
and in the stillness
that allows the wind a voice.
Yellow jackets hum and then are silent,
and take up the buzz again
as the long afternoon stretches languidly
towards the evening cool.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 22, 2018

Saturday, July 21, 2018

The Kingdom Within














Let me be a kingdom unto myself,
a kingdom within, a well, a spring,
a law establishing the truth
of all my eyes can see

Let my kingdom rule me absolutely,
and let it offer sanctuary
to all who flee their demons,
to all who come here hoping to be seen

This kingdom of the inner infinite
has room enough
to shelter those who enter by the door,
to nourish what we are and bring it forth.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 21, 2018

Friday, July 20, 2018

Aftershock














Nobody knew the right thing to do.
Lots of people would have had stuff to say,
opinions on appropriate directions

Where was my intuition?
Why had I not been honing it through many years?
How could I have thought
it was unreachable or optional?

If I had known better,
could I have done better?
If I had done better
where might we be?

This wave comes over me and passes through
and in its ebb I feel again
how I was grounded.
There will be other waves —
when they recede
the light will gleam again along the sheening sand.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 20, 2018

Thursday, July 19, 2018

A Word of Advice

















If you’re too tired to find your daily poem,
don’t stay up late to read a novel —
its world will trespass on your dreams,
displace you from your peaceful center

Beware the morning, then, whose overcast
may not pierce through the web that spun you in —
you’ll sit in stupor trying to remember
what gives your life its lift, how to begin …

But if you find yourself in this condition,
it’s folly to succumb to doleful doubt —
you have an easy, obvious solution —
even a silly poem can pull you out.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 19, 2018

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

The Lark














(to Oohna, inspired by a collaboration)

Alleluia, intoned the lark,
for song can overcome the dark —
take it under your wings like wind
to soar through the bright canopy
and bring the light of hope across the land
in echo of the joy of morning trees.
Listen within to where your heart says, “hark”
and say amen — so you become the lark.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 17, 2018

Monday, July 16, 2018

Joy in Heaven














In the calculus of salvation
no effort is wasted, no case
too hard to take on, no soul
so lost as not to be worth saving

There is joy in heaven
as each of us is brought home
and especially for those
most widely thought to not deserve it

Be glad, for your intransigence
is a gift, as much as your eagerness —
whatever you are is enough
to get you in.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 16, 2018

Sunday, July 15, 2018

Curious














The party across the way
is not my business
but I am curious

I’m not wishing to belong there
but I am curious

I wonder how people find shelter
in each other, and if it feels safe
and if it is real

I don’t feel lonely
in the way I once did
but I am curious

Curious to see
what shelter will unfold around us,
what we will offer
and who we will receive.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 15, 2018

Saturday, July 14, 2018

One Touch














Cradle me, let your arms
be a touchpoint, take me back
to where I don’t remember
but feel like I could —

This holding that shows me
that I am beloved,
my perfect belonging
wholly assured 

(If there is one body
then there is one touch
that all of us yearn for 
and each one can give)

No need to settle
for that which is partial,
provisional, grudging,
for sometime acceptance

Let this touch assure you, too,
that you have always 
been welcome here.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 14, 2018

Friday, July 13, 2018

Patient














And patience must be
the waiting, in full appreciation 
of each growing sense of purpose,
for each development, in turn,
of needed elements
and their essential folding together
into the pattern

Patience must be
hearing the theme afar off,
and letting it come around
through all the orchestra
until it’s time to sound.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 13, 2018