Of Life and Plans

Life has its own plans,

so they say,

squirrel in the hawthorn

bobbing the ends of branches

as the dark day prepares

to roll toward darker

and the old man,

not amenable to our schedule,

still sits at the table with his tea,

not drinking much,

though the clock ticks

and the hands circle round

I may turn frequently

in my seat,

looking for the next thing,

but life is right here

working out its own design.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 12, 2017

Fuel

Thoughts play in mind

like small flames

traveling along the kindling

leaving crumbling sticks behind,

licking onward to the next log

I am struck

with the abundance of fuel

and the warmth that comes

in the consideration

of the vastness of the truth

that contains our being,

the infinity of Life

in which we play.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 11, 2017

Something Completely Different

Mat of roots at water’s edge,

persistent wind blowing

damp and gray,

steely sparkles from sun

mostly obscured by clouds,

hope seeping up into the day

We’ll take this time of change,

we’ll sink our teeth into it —

no point in trying to hide from it,

no point in getting lost

in the drift

We can have guidance,

we can be lifted —

this doesn’t have to be

all about falling.

There can be health.

There can be

finding the way.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 10, 2017

The Voice of Truth

More than anything —

more than acceptance,

more than approval,

more than a celebrated place

among the ones who set the scenes,

more than owning all my space and time,

I want to hear the voice of truth within

Because even though at first

it seems a tiny hairline crack,

barely enough

to be seen in darkness,

it quickly opens

and proves to be everything —

turning the whole scene inside out,

filling my world with light.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 9, 2017

Possibly

We can be an oasis,

we can offer home —

we have these places,

we have the path

down which we’ve come,

we have these graces

and there’s no need to be alone —

after all, we are designed

to weave together

There are particulars

that we can’t know before we try

but as with anything

it takes some jumping off to fly —

as for our wings,

maybe their need to stretch is why

and they’ll be urging us

out to the edge forever.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 7, 2017

Yeah, the weather

The wind is periodically

throwing little handfuls

of what might be rain

against the skylight

The weather is welcome, 

even after yesterday’s

almost impossibly round

full moon, and its light

through the windows,

through the night

Today fall has swung wilder

with the excitement

of turning leaves and tossing wind,

sun coming and going,

clouds darkening patches of sky

Now at night

we are grateful for heat

and being inside

and having had some good strides

through the dramatic day.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 6, 2017

Still small voice

I was asking you to go 

to that still point

where there was no argument,

where the raging anguish

that roared at the surface

was unheard,

where the tumbling waves above

could only relay

a small tremor,

just at your heel

I felt like instead

I was just shouting

against the din,

so I considered:

my tiny voice

will never be

the still small one

that moves the mountains

but you have a voice within

and it is speaking.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 5, 2017