Arctic Chill

Days like this

bring out the memory

of hibernation. We take naps

on the couch, we wake up

to mammalian smells

and dark that fell

while we were sleeping

Our brief trips outside

have sweetened the warmth

of our dwelling,

the fire speaks to us

in familiar tongues.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 31, 2019

Sparkle

Within the sparkle of your being,

between the separate sparkles,

I thought for a moment

I could enter. Could feel the crackle

of electric movement, effervescence

of the spaces in between —

Could step beyond boundaries

to where we occupy

the same space. A way to light up,

a way to receive.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 30, 2019

Investment

You brought the fresh wind in with you,

you brought exhilaration,

the momentum of swift striding

and moments of being at your best

I took the time to share with you

some of that breathing,

some of that joy at just-right-ness.

It’s worth a lot — 
an investment, no doubt,

sure to enrich.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 28, 2019

The Glow of Presence

As soon as I pull myself

out of the fray

and give myself enough time

for things to settle,

the glow of presence

makes itself known,

fresh and still as morning

Called to account for it

I’m rendered silent

but the lift that cleaves to soaring wings

attests to the same presence

that bears me ever up.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 27, 2019

Falling asleep while trying to write a poem

A world made

of everything that happened,

an armature of sighs,

something seen the moment

before I opened my eyes,

not enough time

to make any difference

There may be hope

in the very slightest of things,

the gossamer of insect wings,

the care that has been taken

at every scale where things can be perceived —

we may not understand

but this may help us to believe.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 26, 2019

No Matter What

In the end we will find

we have not been betrayed

by our choices. We won’t come to wish

we had known better

and done something else,

even when vast scenarios

play themselves out — if only …

Our coming into ourselves

is not a matter of chance, 

of choice, any more than is

the river’s course

or the return of waves

back along their cycle at the shore

We’ll meet again — I’m certain —

We’ll celebrate the beauty of our lives,

the tender light we each shed

on the world and on each other

in every place where we were meant to shine,

undimmed by how we dipped our threads  through time.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 24, 2019

The Realm of Spirit

In the realm of Spirit

there is no rationing —

You will rise like morning

drenched in joy,

you will drink freely

and light will flow liquid

across the whole page

of your day.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 23, 2019

Hidden Skills

I watched the ice — its shapes,

the way they fit together,

how they had drifted off a little space

and sat like puzzle pieces on the water

edges ridged and ready 

to bump or join

I reflected on its quiet language

and the ancient rules of interface,

the same as has been done for many years

enacted here in just the last two days

A set of habits totally unseen,

scarcely imagined in the warmer seasons

emerging now, when they are needed

from water’s reservoir of hidden skills.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 22, 2019

Evening

In a moment things can change color,

the fall of light, the path of clouds,

reflection’s edges …

My thought trails behind perceptions —

I reach for color names

but cannot find them

Or I still think the walls are yellow

long past the time that shadow

has rendered them something else —

Is it a weakness of language,

or of my nimbleness of mind,

or some efficient function

of what I need to know?

— As evening pulls the corners into umber,

leaving golden glows around the lamps.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 20, 2019

Considerations

(on biking before the storm)

Storm was predicted

and after the bright morning

it started to roll in

It is said that a wind passed through the mountains,

breaking the rocks in pieces

but the power was not in the wind

nor was the consequence

and there was a vast stillness

in the recognition

that none of that violence

could do anything

in the face of Truth

The snow was more benign than rain —

not wet enough to bother,

hardly visible, but finding its way,

sometimes, into my mouth

as I rode and considered

what it must mean 

that the wind and the earthquake and the fire,

though they did break the mountains,

couldn’t do anything.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 19, 2019

Soft

The day went soft.

Snow started but did not continue.

Ice on the pond got wet on top

and slushy at the edges.

Our feet stepped quiet

on the brown oak leaves

We, too, are soft —

soft towards each other,

soft in the tender places

where our edges touch

We may be overcast

but we are warm,

we may lack brilliant blue

but we still have sienna.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 18, 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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Light Prayer

Grant me this:

Let me bring the light forth

into my day. Let it make a difference.

Let it do more

than light me up inside —

let it illumine

the treasures of the hearts of others.

Let them see themselves

as deeply, dearly seen

You who have shined the light in me,

I ask you to complete this —

it is your work to bring it forth

and mine to hold it up.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 9, 2019

A Way to Pray

How to pray is

you set the silent seal

that draws you

into the heart of yourself

where you lie close

along what causes you,

where you feel the breath

of every impulse of your source,

that blessed companionship

that gives you all you need

This is in fact your essence

and your sovereignty,

where your longings are fulfilled,

today and every day.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 8, 2019

Winter Beach

January feast —

(many miles to go)

wind against my cheeks,

sand between my toes

Vision of the sea

shining in its thunder,

waves against the beach,

reaching, curling under

The ocean drew me there

with promise of delight

for eyes and ears and feet —

it didn’t disappoint

Now I ride home,

the headwind pushing back,

I feel the distance,

I feel my hunger,

but I am glad, too,

well fed by what I’ve seen —

I don’t know when next,

but I’ll be back again.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 6, 2019

Winter Rain

Mist hides the distance,

rain knocks against the house,

we turn on lights against the dark and cold,

a fair-dealt day of winter

eliciting our fair response —

napping, dreaming,

drawing close to family,

seeking the inner light

each holds as beacon,

seeing the radiance

of our harmonic shine.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 5, 2019

Winter Water

Could be a place you call home,

could be a place you call memory,

could be a mirror,

could be the path of a stone

sinking deep in winter water

All these clouds have gathered

to view themselves,

to feel their loft,

to lend the pond another layer

of depth and luminosity

We will go deep, too,

because we love to,

and we will float high

because we, too,

include the sky.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 3, 2019

Another River

Consider the river of what you want,

how it flows strong and true

beneath the surface thoughts

of what you think you have

and think that you deserve

and what you think is possible

and what you think has happened

We all share that same river,

and if we can find our way

to the connection, perhaps

we’ll help each other overcome

the floes, the snags, the brambles

that catch us up. Perhaps

we’ll help each other break through

and float free.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 2, 2019

New Year’s Day

Rain and wind have washed the night,

the day comes boisterous, all gusts

and pent up clouds, released to romp

in blue, to stretch across the day

Grasses graced in gold and green

show silver sides before the wind,

and though it’s winter — many storms

to come before the spring —

the earth and sea both feel awake,

alert with life

I too can feel the ever present freshness

within, without — I too can be made new.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 1, 2019