Author Archives: Wendy

Apocalypse

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We may prepare for the Apocalypse,
may prepare for many —
fortified and settled in, stocked up
and battened down

We could prepare for the Apocalypse
of flood, of fire, of drought, of cold,
yet the Apocalypse is not what’s ripped away,
but what’s revealed when everything is gone

Hence the preparation of the heart,
not to survive so much as how to be alive,
to see beyond the veil
of all the worry, judgment, dread,
to what, when all is finished, will remain.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 11, 2018

100 Mile Bakery

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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

Celebrated

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Outside and inside,
two kinds of evening glow,
and there’s one thing —
really only one—
you need to know

As sun’s last light
paints orange above the hills
and the fire has finally
driven out the evening’s chill,
there’s one thing —
really only one needed —
to make the warmth stay,
to make it real

Heaven and earth
may be the same playground
where the children of the house can romp.
They are never uncompanioned,
never left alone,
they’re always celebrated,
always home.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 9, 2018

Late Afternoon

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The bite of breeze
and the smell of earth
and the fading warmth
of the late-appearing, early setting sun,
a time to feel
rich in my domain
and glad of others’ work well done

The land is holy,
full of so much life
that flows so quickly
into any opening

I don’t know what kind of bird or animal
made the trilling, cooing sound
off in the distance
between the noises of machinery
but it sounded sweet,
it sounded like home.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 8, 2018

Each Moment

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It wasn’t explained to us.
In fact, it was a secret,
guarded, mostly, by misdirection
though somewhat, too, by outright lies

We didn’t know how each moment rises
to meet the kiss of truth, the sun-warmed love —
bright ripple radiating outward
in the moment’s consummation

Each moment of each being,
morning, and evening, and at noon,
out and out along the gleaming sands of day.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 7, 2018

Politics

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We thrashed through the question
of changing someone’s mind,
we circled through the arguments
and came out where we started
(or a little bit behind)

There’s the problem of perspective
and the greater challenge: what stance
will my stance invoke?
How can this structure do anything
but drill down deeper
in its own opinion?

Can’t win by trying.
Can’t win by not doing anything.
We need a larger lever
or a better place to stand.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 5, 2018

The Daily Vote

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I will vote for the strength of being,
vote for the light
and not what covers it,
not what tries to cordon off and own it,
looming large with rules
for how, when, and for whom
it needs to shine

I will vote for the heart’s whisper
within each one of us
which tells us, contradicting roles and rules,
just what we are

We won’t be overthrown
for there is no power
outside the seed within,
no power but that which calls it forth.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 4, 2018

Uniting

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I move silent
in the act of holy opening,
rip of light, all along the edge,
kindled power, tight-roped joy,
a dance in awe of its unfolding

This is how I always meant to move
but never could, while trying, too, to own it,
this is me without the self sense,
bringing light which isn’t mine
except in this surrender
of all I called myself,
in this uniting
with that which owns my love.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 3, 2018

Measure

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No need for agony —
it doesn’t matter
how many times you failed —
no need for bludgeoning yourself
with all those painful awkward memories

You can leave them in a pile.
You don’t have to take them with you,
and, in fact, you can’t.
You will not be judged by them —
they never have been you

No one will weigh you,
for your measure is infinity
and your unfoldment
beyond all time.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 2, 2018

Traction

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You raise your cup again
to down the draft of grief
as you must drink it
every time it fills

If it provides
something that you need,
or if you need to drink
until the well is dry,
we cannot say —
this is not, it would appear,
one of those things in life
about which we have a choice

This is just the trek across the day,
any one of them, every one,
this is going through the motions or
it is the steady necessary traction
cleansing as it draws you
with the urgency of home
to your core.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 1, 2018