And if the hum of every day,
well-oiled or creaky, loud or quiet,
should lull you into thinking
this is all you get
Step back, look deeper —
There is no engine here
except the bright desire of Life,
intense, unquenched,
coursing with strength
that can lift you
bounding over crowns of hills,
leaping sure-footed
among the crags,
soaring, glowing,
above the clouds
You need not settle
for a plodding pace
for you are powered
by life, by grace.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 14, 2017
Today, once more,
a couple steps
to round up and evict
the voices of complaint
Outside a fine mist
has muted the sky
but not the ruling green
which flourishes
everywhere it’s been allowed
And inside, laundry
is not as massive as it was,
and though the same blocks
hulk up against my progress,
I have some newer tools.
There’s a way to trickle forward
and there’s room, right here,
for praise.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 13, 2017
I’m very excited to announce the publication of my latest book, Vessels. One big first is that this one is published by Schiffer Press, which is well known for its beautiful art books. The other big first is that this is a collaboration with my sister, Jennifer McCurdy, who is an amazing artist.
I’m delighted with the book. Our collaborative process was very inspiring. I feel the poems we chose bring out the lyricism of Jennifer’s vessels, and her vessels bring out the beauty of my poems. The process also brought out insights for both of us about our creative processes. Schiffer did a wonderful job of taking our design and making it sparkle, and were able to produce a book of a much higher quality than I have available through my self-publishing channels.
You can buy the book from Schiffer or from Amazon. Your positive review would also be of great value to me.
We first relax
and then begin
to take our tentacles out
of your father’s life
We called them love
but they were something else.
We felt our love required them
but (on further thought)
our meddling does not improve his life
We take out the tentacles
so he can die if he wants,
and if what he wants to do
is ride the currents
of his own volition
wherever they may take him, well
This is what we also had to do
to free our children. So now
you’re treating him like an adult,
my daughter said. Letting him decide
what he wants to do
Oh yes. To learn again:
Love is not exerting
what we think is best for them —
love holds on
while also letting go.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 12, 2017
After a while
we started to think we wanted
that one bright slice of day
we couldn’t have
We began to tire
of building our time around it
though it was quite reasonable —
Who, after all, is free
of all obligations?
And even if we were free,
the same discontent
that dogs us now
would nibble around our edges
in some other way
and try to take
this same kind of chomp
out of our satisfaction.
So no. Regroup and reconsider.
The victory, the release,
will not be from demanded time,
but from the sense of deprivation.
We can always have enough.
We are always given
just what we need.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 10, 2017
Stand at the right place
and the fractured colors
form a mosaic,
and bits of meaning
from other contexts
take on new roles,
defining something else
Love the pieces —
the memories, the skills,
the hard-earned softness,
and love the new creation —
all these parts of life from other times
joined to form the compass rose of now.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 10, 2017
It’s not too late
to feel blessed,
though eyes be turned toward sleep,
though goals be given up on,
though consciousness
has wandered off
into various fields
where grasses
are going to seed
and small flowers
hold court with many
peculiar bugs
It’s not too late to be blessed —
look — you’re there already
in the sweet breath of summer night,
in the dream welcoming call
of warm blankets and chilly wind.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 7, 2017
Isn’t it obvious
that all this time
we couldn’t have been
holding ourselves up?
(As scientists posit “dark matter”
because there isn’t enough substance
in the known universe
to pull itself together)
(As it is clear
that if we needed to rely
on our paltry interactions
to create love,
we could never do it)
When the mighty rush
of Love, its sheer infinity,
bears us up, carries us along,
powers our swoops,
becomes our song,
then we know what holds us,
what held us all along.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 5, 2017
Midnight threatens
to overcome the day —
I can keep working
up to its threshold
but it will be tomorrow then
and what I accomplish
will no longer add to
today’s to dos’ ta-dahs
No matter. My life cares little
about calendars these days.
I have to think hard sometimes
about what day it is.
Just me and the rhythms
of someone who’s left time behind
and the progress that scribbles
bright and rushing
outside all the lines.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 4, 2017
The treasures of the true world,
the harmony, the peace, the immortality,
can’t be taken back
into the false world
You can’t adorn yourself with them
to raise your status, can’t teach them
to those you peg as fools.
They are, in fact, as useless there
as sun sparkles, for paying off of debts
The treasures of the true world
must be enjoyed right where they are.
There’s no need to go back anyway —
why not stay
in the consciousness of omnipresent good?
©Wendy Mulhern
June 3, 2017