Author Archives: Wendy

Winter Sun

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winter sun

The arc of winter’s day,
like the early crescent moon,
is clipped — dawn comes late and cold
into the frosted town,
mist hangs, bright and pale
between the shadows

Noon brings warmth
and polished gleam
to bare tree limbs,
though the sun stays low,
the shadows still substantial

Cold will come soon —
even any moment —
when the sun slips
behind the tall, dark trees
and heads quickly
like a child coasting home on a bicycle
on the last leg towards night.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 14, 2015

Everything We Need

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carkeek7

Everything you need is here.

This is not something to talk about —
Come here:

Your eyes are half the amulet,
My eyes can be the other,
Your heart, your hands,
are half the story —
Joined, we will complete the arc:

Everything we need is here.

It takes no more than willingness,
No more than the desire
inherent in living,
No more than open presence
to ignite the ever waiting spark
that sets the current surging
on and on in affirmation
of what we’re here for,
everything we need.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 13, 2015

photo by Eric Mulhern

Waiting for Service at the Verizon Store

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The wind tunnel here is strong —
shrill blasts along the sheer and sterile buildings,
loud streaming of the ads and football chatter,
straight lines of life-suppressing roads
and matching suppositions of acceptable life-paths —
It’s no surprise we all should feel
weary, aimless, craving sugar

In this place I summon
everything alive
to help me —
the brave trees at the edges of the parking lot,
the smiles that people sometimes find,
the memory of winter reds against the gold
of winter grass
on the wise land
where we will learn to reconstruct the patterns
which show us how to live,
which give us peace.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 11, 2015

old oak

Your Names Are Written in Heaven

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written in heaven

Rejoice,
for your place in Life,
so particular, so vast,
is eternally established:

Who you are,
as singular as your name,
is braided in,
inextricably,
to the epic song
of elemental harmony

You are known,
You are needed,
and your words and actions
will always
bring forth their intended fruits.

Rejoice,
for your names are written in heaven.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 10, 2015

Clarity

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our land

I need these moments
where the perfunctory subsides,
where its detritus —
the weariness, the dread —
ceases to be tossed
against my eyes
And the clear burn
of fervent purpose
lights my steps
and takes me deep
where the life cords course
in swift, braiding channels
surging me sure-footed and alert
through my day.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 8, 2015

Gestation

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carkeek4 crop3

In the gestation
of any new idea,
there is a time for silence —
a time when the currents of words
would warp the fragile budding,
when the stream of story
would make it something other
than it otherwise could be,
when blessed stillness
lets it unfold
from its own impulse
till it’s strong enough
to hold its own.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 6, 2015

photos by Eric Mulhern

The End of What May Have Been Our Last Beach Walk in January

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The rain made patterns
of the sand that fell
from people’s shoes
as they left the beach
and climbed the ramp
up to the bridge over the tracks

The sand streamed down
in branching, braiding paths,
dark gray against the tawny pavement —
A thing I hadn’t thought to look for,
surprised to have noticed it
in a fleeting random glance, heading home
while the billowed sky hung close,
releasing its wetness,
soft and persistent,
into the very dark day.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 5, 2014

Indelible

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richmond beach sunset

Love is a persistent thing —
The marks it leaves
don’t wash off.

Though they may be masked
by conversation
or the lack thereof,
by things said and not said,
done and not done,

When the alchemic fumes clear
and the film of time burns off,
Love is still there

In the end, its indelible etching
replaces all the old forms
with its insistent truth.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 5, 2014

Destiny

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destiny

We can do this
because this is what we are made for:
The timeless power
flows through our ionized, alerted forms,
from core through fingertips,
completes the arc,
connects us
to our incontestable purpose,
plucks the harmonic
that calls all sensors to attention
and aligns the universal forces
with our own
so we together
(we and the universe)
manifest
that to which we ever have been called —
destiny which never is forestalled.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 2, 2015