Taking Root

New language arises

in the differentiation of essential oils,

in the attention to small details —

freshness and sequence and timing

There are places in this noticing

for gratitude to take hold

with confident grip

to entrances too small to see —

thread hairs of its roots

reaching in and changing the ground

with what it brings

and what it calls forth.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 18, 2020

Setback

I went out shiny and hopeful,

I came back grubby and bruised,

I tripped over myself

so many times,

I got in my way —

such a familiar place

I had made grand narratives

for my triumph, had configured the words

but then found myself

once again

having to settle for silence

I know

there is another way,

I see the sweet humility

that overcomes the toughest challenge.

I feel the gratitude

for those quiet moments

where I see others

have found that peace

I can’t do this alone

but I’m not asked to,

nor am I charged to chronicle the story.

The steps are shown,

and all those dear ones

wait eager to receive me when I come.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 13, 2020

A lesser day

Before the day devolves

to winter evening’s sodden dark,

before the sun withdraws

and dusk and rain take over,

let its singularity and freshness make their mark,

let me take in all they have to offer

And let me not forget

the simple happiness 

of a place to be,

a place with warmth, 

a place with windows,

a place with everything I need

Though unmomentous,

this is not a lesser day,

though unpretentious,

it is still enough. 

©Wendy Mulhern

January 26, 2020

Disabused

This day has had surprise gifts in it,

just when I’d trained myself

not to expect any. But that,

as it turns out, is today’s humbling —

Life takes me down a peg or two

by offering tangible things

to make me happy,

proving I don’t need to go it alone

And my belief that I did

was making too much of myself —

I needed to be disabused of that presumption.

I can’t say I mind.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 5, 2019

Thanks for this

I hold the blessing

in the laugh behind my eyes,

in the warm spots on my cheeks,

and in the warble that burbles

in the place where I might speak

It isn’t mine — it is a gift

passed to me freely, just an hour ago,

not me alone — given to many,

and I imagine

they all took it home

As I assume also it will multiply

as mirrors magnify,

as smiles create a surfeit of good will,

which cascades outward

touching people who

don’t even know each other,

though they’d recognize the kinship

with anyone in whom they saw the light.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 30, 2019

Watching the Weather

Standing under the porch roof

I aimed my camera

and tried to catch a lightening bolt

I failed, though I saw five of them

— lack of faith, perhaps,

in my ability, or in the likelihood

that it would strike again

Wind brought the smell of rain

(though it rained little)

and relief, if for the moment,

from the sultry stillness

and the thickness

of the thunder-laden air

To have a roof over our heads

is cause for gratitude,

which marks how far we’ve come

and gives a standpoint from which

we can receive more.

©Wendy Mulhern

September 5, 2019

A Fresh Look

It’s easy enough

in the fray of things

to forget what I’ve been given —

simple companionship 

(the stuff of early dreams

portrayed as heaven)

a path to walk, so many ways

to wake up, to see new dimensions

folding out and multiplying views

Beauty of days, beauty of life,

beauty of others (known or not)

beauty of images which, dove-like,

come to rest with me

It’s easy enough to remember —

to let the blessings 

fall upon my thought like rays, 

to be in awe, to be illumined,

to let that light sustain me

and invoke my praise.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 17, 2019

The Sacred Offering

I consider the faces of gratitude

and notice

they don’t include

a feeling of not deserving

what has been given,

though the gift is immense,

though I have longed for it

all the way down my memory

as far as I can see

When I see that I have it now,

I can’t say I shouldn’t want it,

or that I haven’t earned it,

or that I have.

Gratitude is exactly the price

for the beauty of my days.

©Wendy Mulhern

June 1, 2019

Festival of Lights

Indeed, for each of you is a light —

We bask in dappled illumination,

the moving brightness of each of you

multiplied each time you interact

We are so blessed

by each of you. And more —

you all together

comprise this feast, become this exaltation,

enough, for sure, to light the temple

eight days, that is,

eternity plus one.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 2, 2018

The Morning’s Gold

We were there to harvest

the gold of the day,

exhilaration

when sun has overcome

the last night’s rain

Damp leaves quivered

with surface evaporation,

breath-catch of being here,

the moment’s radiant warmth

Later the clouds came across

and maybe there was more rain

(later we were inside, where noticing

is not strictly required).

In memory, and in the camera’s capture,

the morning’s gold will stay.

©Wendy Mulhern

November 24, 2018

100 Mile Bakery

Days are getting colder —

wind shifts the sun between radiant and bleak,

my face feels the glow of heat

from fires and indoor furnaces

Here at the bakery

amid the generosity of pies,

I imagine holidays,

bringing forth a steaming offering

suffused in gratitude

The place, the faces

are undetermined

but I can hope

Life will provide

all the needed elements

for the occasion,

all that will be given and received.

©Wendy Mulhern

November 10, 2018

Indoors

We can also find pleasure

in aesthetics, colors combining

in journals, in fabrics,

musical artistry, broadcast for viewing,

planes of reflection, hum of appliances

One could spend time indoors

in a place like this,

hardly missing the somewhat tame outdoors.

There is time for this

when the rain pushes in,

and there’s gratitude,

gratitude for shelter.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 26, 2018

Reprieve

The deeply welcome smell of rain,

the fine mist bringing the smoke down,

a heartfelt breathing of relief

inhaled together by the whole town

We breathe in gratitude,

it feels so easy 

to find it, and our brightness

when the air is clear —

for now it’s plenty

to keep us happy,

to catch the vision of our peace

and hold it here.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 23, 2018

Permission to Cry

A place that’s warm can give me

permission to cry — kindness so often

sets me off, I don’t know why —

I don’t know if it rolls me onto

the underside of long and steady courage,

if it makes my vigil seem bleak, if it allows

a setting down of strength,

and if this flood is something

I just needed, or if it is

a detour from the program

and does no earthly good

I don’t know why, but I feel

grateful and unhinged

both at the same time.

©Wendy Mulhern

April 4, 2018

Attentions

The day has pressed its paws

into my lap, claws mostly sheathed,

the insistent kneading

accompanied by soft purr

I have offered my attention

but perhaps was more distracted

than I noticed — maybe didn’t give

the approbation it deserved,

maybe didn’t take in, with enough wonder,

the unparalleled glory of its presence.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 16, 2017

Places of Gratitude

My places of gratitude are many —

this chair, this lamp, this dark night,

comfort of companionship

and this vast realm of thought

where music can bring images

and luminous ideas can dart

in swift, branching lines,

delineate new order

and make a framework

for understanding everything.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 8, 2017

Questions

And in these mostly indoor days,

these indoor preparation days

of dusting and of vacuum cleaning,

sorting through and seeking meaning

What thoughts emerge, what entertainment

plays upon my mind? What dreams

might I remember, what stories

do I find?

And have I caught the blessing

of the half moon through bare trees

at four? And of the birch leaves at noon

that left their limbs like a flock of birds?

And the moments, and their gratitude

when I notice the particulars of the day?

©Wendy Mulhern

November 27, 2017

Keepers

Be thankful for the day —

it is enough

to tuck the old man in,

to see the comfort

of soft sheets around his chin

It is enough

to have accomplished 

the simple tasks

and to have felt the soft burn

of inner fire, curling

at the base of being,

connecting us to eternity

and the truth no lies can cover

and the clear direction that it gives,

untouched by any turbulence of time,

bearing us silently

into our role

as keepers of the stars.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 9, 2017

Thankful

I am thankful

for my love of music

and my love of color

and my love of friends and family

and my love of strangers

I’m thankful for my love

of wind and rain, of trees,

of wild waters, sun and skies,

of light and motion, and fluid patterns

I’m thankful for my love,

because all these things are wonderful

but if I didn’t love them,

I wouldn’t know.

©Wendy Mulhern

November 24, 2016

What I Have Received

I am grateful for flight

and I am grateful for calm,

grateful for blustery wind in early morning

before the sun crested the east hill,

grateful, too, for the warmth the sun infused

in wind-danced leaves

and sun squares through windows

and the cool warm aliveness

of stepping outside

in moments between my indoor 

work and watch keeping

There’s much more in this day

than I have fathomed

but I am grateful

for what I have received.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 25, 2016