Author Archives: Wendy

Heather’s Birthday

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Heather’s birthday today
What to say about her –
my girl of sevens?
How deep her love,
how unfailing her well of compassion?
How strong her loyalty
how enduring the gift of her friendship?
How wordless her passionate place of perception
What care she takes, in twining words from there
like Inca grasses, wound and wound together
to make a bridge
a fragile-seeming, swinging rope contraption
to speak across the chasm of that space?
Or this: the simple touch
that brings her brother into contact
with his own potential, and a person
who can help him bring it out?
A song in a restaurant, a cuddle at end of day
Laughter, and hugs, and swift glances
of recognition
Family affection unfurled
Priceless delight of my world.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 7, 2011



The poem I didn’t write

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My poem yesterday
I could see, but it had no words.
It was a mass of tangled threads
looped edges sticking out
on the sides, bright magenta
against midnight blue
 that only showed up a little
as warp might
In between the weft
and it vibrated janglingly
as if under strobe light.
So I didn’t write it.
I went to bed, though that added
to my sense of defeat
Its words were: you have no ideas
no ideas in words 
for a poem.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 7, 2011



Could it be?

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Could it be
that feeling low
is itself an arrogance
something sweet humility 
will cure?
Could it be
that feeling like a nothing
is itself a hoarding
of heavy weight, tension and tears
of clamping, cramping thought?
Could it be that though I feel
I need to pile on blankets
of blubbering self-pity
To beg for crusts of kudos
To howl for encouragement
What really helps
against feeling like a nothing
is giving everything
with no concern for cost or gain
no weighing if my mite
might measure up
Just giving
Could that be enough?
©Wendy Mulhern
July 5, 2011



Summer Evening Grace

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As I ride homeward
The sun begins its descent
through congregations of clouds
They reach out to be transfigured
fleetingly, each in turn
While the blessing flows
fleecy hand to fleecy hand
the air is cooler
the evening shadows softened
the pavement glow subdued
Later the sun reemerges
Commanding countenance
too strong to behold
I ride dazed, half blinded
till I slip into the shadow of a hill.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 3, 2011



When nagging and pleading has failed to produce results

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You say you’re a musician
Well
I want to see you Soul-jamming
Mind-rocking
Transported
By the melody and the harmony and the
Sweet rhythm
Skating down the riffs
Floating in the joy of creating and expressing
Riding the sound waves
But if the music takes you
Why should I think
I would get a front row seat?
Perhaps you need to wait
Till your own lights guide you
Need to let it get dark enough
That the stars come out
Need me to let you free fall until 
the song catches you in its own necessity
It has to be your own.
©Wendy Mulhern
     July 1, 2011



the end of time

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as days spiral down
faster and faster
each week coming around
sooner than the last one
as years slip
and days blip
my focus shifts
towards the end of time
as one round of fireworks
becomes so like others
I cease to need to see them
parades can go without me
and new thrills
I’d rather will
to my children
than seek out for myself
my goals drift 
towards eternity
where things unfold kalaidescopic
not in time—in endless pattern
not in chains of cause/effect, of linked events
but life connecting all its web in present tense
I yearn towards when the frenzied march is done
the end of time in which we all are one.

©Wendy Mulhern

June 30, 2011



Temptation

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The surf of sleep waits just behind my eyes
It hushes, rushes, and recedes
It drags, like shells,
my focus and resolve
It tugs them under, covers them
and smiles
It whispers at me as I move
from task to task, a little dazed
by water’s movement
crossways
to where I try to walk
It murmurs: it’s preparing
a big wave to bring me down with it
Succumb, it soothes, come down
to where the dreams can slosh against your side
and wash you, cuddle you, caress your hair
I’m thinking soon
I may surrender
. . . almost there . . . . 


©Wendy Mulhern
June 29, 2011





Bicycle Meditation

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I ride in whirring balance gyroscopic
my bicycle and all my strength in tune
My thoughts, too, whirr along their tireless topic:
deep connection and my longing to commune
It hovers like a hunger, though it feeds me
with eager energy to power my feet
The hope to find and join the place that needs me
where what I need to give and what it needs will meet
My discipline is still to keep it real
no far-flung vision, fluffy, outsized dreams
This moment’s work, this smile, this evening’s meal
To speak the truth, be kind, work hard, redeem
each effort from the weight of drudgery
So will I fly, so realize what I must be.


©Wendy Mulhern
June 28, 2011



Another one for you

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What’s needed here will not be said with words
though if I knew the magic words, I’d use them
And I don’t need to understand the whys
the rationale, the story – not that I’d refuse them
Just that somewhere deep beneath the story
a universal need peeks through, quite clear
To feel the arms that always reach out for you
the endless depth to which you are held dear
Though these are just my arms, I hope they show you
(as any person’s arms perhaps could do)
What joy it gives the Infinite to know you
How precious is your essence, and how true
No sentencing can stand, however tough
You walk in grace, and grace is good enough.


©Wendy Mulhern
June 27, 2011


Work in Progress

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Today the tasks 
were taupe and black
The day was gray and green
My hobbled thought kept limping back
to what it all must mean
Let go, let go
It isn’t here
The things that cease to matter
though mounded high
will disappear
in so much empty clatter
Last night my sleep was sweet and rich
My dreams were entertaining
though when I woke
they all dispersed
without a trace remaining
Today some friends were tired and sad
in pain or in despair
I reached to them across the space
and grasped at empty air
I yearn, I yearn
to offer peace
Some day I’ll learn to do it
To open up that hidden door
and walk on with them
through it.


©Wendy Mulhern
June 24, 2011