Oops - forgot about the taxes -
dropped like so many things
in the sprint where we keep thinking
we'll get to a place we can pause
It feels good to be exercising
our marathon powers,
pure and singular to be streamlining
our lives to do as much
as we can. But irresponsible
to forget the taxes
and have to do backflips tomorrow
to get things back in line.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 30, 2021
The focus of my former life
is now a broken lens -
I can't make sense of
what I used to strive for
I can't make sense
of being right, of a life
comprised of choices -
best things, best ways, best buys,
best explanations
Now, what makes more sense to me
is simple noticing -
where I am, what is unfolding,
what signs of omnipresent Love
are here for me to see,
what is the step I'm called to take right now,
how can I give, right now,
what's being asked of me.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 29, 2021
In the early morning, still cold,
as dew set down pre-dawn begins to sparkle,
as daylight starts to lift my dark vigil
and there is so much more to see
Let me remember -
even in the night I had songs -
they were given to sustain my hopes,
they stayed with me, although their words
spoke of something I had not yet seen
There's always some sustenance.
Maybe there's always as much
as I'm willing to receive -
songs in the night, or bright daylight,
according as I'm ready to believe.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 28, 2021
The eternal dawn
doesn't wait on time,
doesn't need the earth's rolling
or the stars aligning
or the tumblirs of human machinations
to click into place
The eternal dawn first gleams,
then floods, its color
lighting up your hopes, its warmth
dispersing all your huddled fears
It doesn't wait on time,
it waits for you - patiently,
timelessly, here at this moment
when you feel its tender rays.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 27, 2021
I notice that we each have power
to be like sunshine,
to backlight spring leaves so they glow,
to sparkle and dance in treetops
We each have power
to light each other up,
and in so doing, to partake
of wondrous, radiant warmth
We'll see it on the outside,
we'll feel it all within,
we'll generate enough illumination
to power up the world -
let us begin!
©Wendy Mulhern
April 26, 2021
In threads of the prosaic,
when I'm feeling far from poem,
here are things to bring me back
to my words-bejewelled home:
You, cheerful, through the speckled paint
that makes you look like Father Time,
me, tickled, through sporadic rain,
that I can wash my hair just fine,
The breakfast that you finally
had time to eat at two,
the fire to make things cozy
that I tended just for you,
the progress on our project,
moving through its awkward phases,
and still affording grace
as I am honest with my praise.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 24, 2021
We talk of fruit trees,
we let the fire go out
(we only needed a small fire anyway)
light rain patters on the roof
We have so many plans,
more things we want to do right now
than we could do in three seasons
(a habit we might want to leave behind)
A friend told me today,
"Love's ideas don't need to struggle to unfold "
You climb up the ladder to bed,
I think on these things.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 23, 2021
