As suddenly as the turn of a day
the things we used to see in you
are gone — you are
an egg, an infant,
a night sky,
the things we think of you
no longer filtered
through the lens of our perceptions,
no longer judged
in the tally of the game
In this transparency
we see you pure,
untouched by all we knew of you
and all you knew of you as well —
you roll out of your form like liquid
ready to collect
in a new chalice.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 23, 2017
Wind blows the rain
through the night,
through the trees,
through the memories
of the day’s events
and intermittent ponderings
The night is long,
the times of waking frequent,
bones and thoughts
surface restless between dreams
When I fed the old man
my mouth opened with his,
closed with his around the spoon,
my lips together
as I slipped it from his mouth,
imagining the sustenance,
the lubrication,
his mouth moving like tortoises’
and scallops’
In the sun-washed morning
in the kitchen
you taste the aura of a new day —
you want to wrap us all in it,
you want us to bask in light
and multiply the brightness.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 22, 2017
In the turn of time
I come around to notice
how much I am like my husband,
how much he is like my father,
how much all the pointless
moments of annoyance in my past
have been just that
I picture the extraction of honey,
the breaking of the wax capsules,
the sweet liquid
flowing out reluctantly
I am as unsure
how this is well accomplished
as I am how to release
the bright life light
from the capsules
of all these constructs
Yet I know
there are ways, both gentle
and heat-filled,
in which this happens,
and even right now my life
with all that is sealed away
and all that’s messy
still drips sweetness.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 21, 2017
We wanted to be forgiven.
We wanted this, without even knowing
who, or for what — some deep shadow
cast within us. Some light
we hoped would shine on all our being,
showing that we were never
what we most feared we were,
and we never needed
to be punished
We have sensed there is such a light
like an orange glow
in a distant upper window,
a window that turns out to be ours,
a place that turns out to be home.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 19, 2017
In this place of everybody’s tears,
it feels amiss to have opinions —
better to let the collective pool deepen,
better to hear the cleansing music
of the quiet drops
and let the gathered ocean
sigh and shift, pour in, recede,
find its common rhythm,
sweep us up within its cycling waves,
rock us, rock us, till our sobs subside
till our restive motion
finds its restful ease.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 18, 2017
I got caught like a moth
between the folds of illusion
and the real light, and I thought
I was working the solution
but it was just a dream
running parallel to the truth
but without its power
Let me take the time to wake up.
It won’t seem like the story I’m imagining
but I will be lifted and straightened
from within, I will be infused
with new understanding.
I will not roll down the great conveyor belt
towards death. I will be translated,
I will walk free.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 17, 2017
Seamless, memeless,
October slides into its second half,
morning dew replaced by morning fog,
pine needles falling
Strong south wind blows through bright sunlight,
bringing, mid-afternoon, its signature overcast,
chill creeps into the house,
I turn on the heat
Vigil and comfort by turns
occupy the twilight,
earlier each evening.
What we are made of,
springing ever new,
will bring us through.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 16, 2017
Underneath the slow drift of thought
(so many horror stories how it got that way)
there lies the urge
wild as water
wild as virgin rivers
to reconcile
to flow together
to abandon all divisive tales
and breathe as one
None of us really wants anymore
to be the winner —
we have started to see
that when one of us loses
so do we all
and we have all lost so much already
that we are really desiring
to come home
to the place we are all washed clean
and we are all sorry
and we are all forgiven
and we can start anew
to live at one.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 15, 2017
Let me lift this cup of day
to my lips, let me taste
the light, the peppered challenges,
the satori of new illuminations
Let me lift the cup of this day
to my lips, let all the moments
kiss me with their inspiration,
let my thirst be ever quenched,
and my hunger — let it be awakened
Let me hold this cup of day,
this day, up to the light for blessing,
let me drink deeply, water to wine,
and in serving, let me be blessed.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 14, 2017
Funny how we used to think
we had to fight for our perspectives,
had to change the minds of those
who didn’t see as we did
Funny how we didn’t know
each view was like a puzzle piece,
each one required to amplify the whole,
each useless if they all were just the same
Now we feel how rich we are
in opened out dimensions
for every view that’s different from our own
that we, with courage, choose to understand.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 13, 2017