Starting over

I want to take us to the place

where we can start over.

No. Better than that —

the place where there’s no race,

and we can give back

all the false starts,

all the mistakes,

all the things we did because

we saw no other way

though we could feel how we betrayed

ourselves and others.

I want us washed

in a great bubble bath,

wrapped in a grand snuggle

where all is forgiven

and we can be seen

miraculously unframed

and be forever true

to what we are.

©Wendy Mulhern

November 7, 2013

Dignity

I have dignity,

he said,

and it was true

and we were glad 

to know he knew.

This navigation

through the floes

of people trying out identities,

the lurches and convergences,

the flowing, the repelling,

calls for vigilance

against submerged projectiles.

It’s good to have a solid grasp

of what of you can bend

and what must stay unmoved.

You have dignity —

It serves you well.

©Wendy Mulhern

November 6, 2013

Afternoon nap

I wake up

to the lazy intersection

of dream and evening noises,

of sleep-infused limbs,

and the slow wheel of reflected headlights,

window-shaped, across the ceiling.

It’s hard to rise

from the compelling coziness

in the place where the threads to the day

have dissolved,

hard to drag myself away

from the sweet tangle

that pulls me languidly

into its spell.

©Wendy Mulhern

November 5, 2013

Flow

There is no stasis

(he said)

in relationships. Everything

is always moving

(Yes, like skin slides against skin

and may find a stopping point,

but then will find another way

to flow, exploring the soft

give of bodies and the many ways

they fit together)

Everything changes. Perspective,

relevance, immediacy, 

brightness, hue, saturation.

But there are constants, too —

the steadiness of pure soul

always being what it is,

shining through.

©Wendy Mulhern

November 4, 2013

By design

Don’t worry.

I won’t lay out my program of bliss

without you. You are in it,

you will always be in it

because your being

brings me such joy.

(And if you want this

to apply to you, it does.)

I can’t imagine

bliss without you there.

The precise hue

of your perspective,

the timbre of your laugh,

the texture of your cuddle

are essential.

Your wisdom balances things,

your needs are needed.

In my vision

you will always have a place.

Wendy Mulhern

November 3, 2013

Walking it out

Things can come clear

in the quiet steps of night

when there is time —

(a pause after a question

may take a block or even two —

the silence stretching taut between the houses

till there’s enough tug

to pull the answer up from underneath)

Things can come clear

in the dark

where a face can be averted

so exposing looks can pass by

undetected

and there is time

to regain composure,

to find the words,

and there’s time to get beyond

reflexive postures.  There’s time

to really hear, and to start over.

There’s time for the warm, quiet

language of hands

clasped through the traversing

of many streets

to make room for everything 

that needs to be spoken.

©Wendy Mulhern

November 2, 2013

What we needed

None of the things we brought with us

were what we needed.

How, after all, could we have predicted

this place, this world?

How could we have known

none of our hard-learned lessons,

our expectations, our opinions,

our conclusions

would have weight?

No matter,

for we still had what we needed.

It was in us

all along.

©Wendy Mulhern

November 1, 2013