Having stood now more than once
being the flame,
feeling the light and heat that radiates,
and surer than at any time before
that this is me,
that this is real,
that in this incandescence
is the core of everything
I’ve ever wished to be
I step more quickly forward
to the heat, I offer my full surface
to the transformation –
whatever is at hand within my day
I give as fuel
so I can see and be
the radiance again.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 6, 2021
Coals lie along each other in the fire
like we do at night,
glowing in each other’s heat
In counterpoint, the stratus clouds
now showing faint above the fog
lie along each other in rolling cold,
pink-tinged, here and there,
but no warmer for it
My fingers sting in morning outdoor chores –
they can’t get warm, lying along each other,
and must return to where the fire
is cooking breakfast,
and warming up the room.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 5, 2021
Evening has me considering
today’s flavor of nothing to say,
rain settled in around the cabin,
a skunk, by the smell outside, underneath
The fire, having warmed our space
and cooked our meal, and made hot water
for cleaning up, is out to pasture –
a little flame retained so it will not go out
but small enough to not be overbearing
We have worked,
we have wrestled demons,
we will essay the same tomorrow,
this being the stuff of our days,
the course we are here to complete.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 3, 2021
Things about you made me happy today –
your humming just now,
your hand’s touch earlier,
and how, when you were working
(around the corner, out of my sight)
the feel of your presence
was joy invoking – little warbles
jumping up inside, making me smile
(though you couldn’t see me)
And the color of your presence
was like dark wood burning in a fire,
one side turning to coals
glowing that compelling white-orange,
sending its heat out like chocolate
I wasn’t thinking of you in the old way –
this was something new –
the reflection of God walking
right here, so close to me –
in the very same house!
©Wendy Mulhern
January 2, 2021
It feels like it should be a metaphor
how my skin has taken in this image –
the dance of embers
when the fire is almost gone,
the way a gentle setting down
of slender sticks
will make them jump – jump and
glow and strangely reappear
further down the coal
where all was dark,
and if the sticks are light and dry enough,
and close enough for company
(but not to crowd)
there will at some point be a “ploof”
and fire will have returned,
merry and vivacious
It feels to me like so many things –
some which would be trite to name,
some clad in so much wonder
I can’t utter them.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 31, 2020
For.the fire.to thrive,
the air needs a free exit.
True, it needs an open space for intake,
but that is not enough –
if it’s held in, if it is clogged at the top,
the fire will be air-starved,
it will grow cool and dull and orange
and cloud up the glass door,
which, when you open,
will pour smoke into the room
To have a clean fire,
the chimney trap
needs to be free of soot
so air can get out
as freely as it comes in
I’m thinking this is also true
of gifts. That gratitude glows bright
in the breath of generosity,
and love – love needs
a constant letting go.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 30, 2020
Though I may think I want comfort,
I don’t really want
to be helpless,
don’t want someone
to swoop in and make things right
A better choice is fortitude –
to stride right into the fray,
to brave the cold, the smoke,
the mud – whatever calls forth
my need to persevere
For then that comfort
will also glow with confidence,
that comfort
will rest in tested strength.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 29, 2020
Trees plant magic in this place,
silent fog – owl punctuates,
bright moon glides in winter’s grace
through the night till morning
Winter’s beauty is revealed,
moon has so much light to wield,
leaves its silver in the field
in frosty early morning.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 28, 2020
I come back around to the fact
that I don’t want to be
anywhere else, don’t want
to be anyone else –
that this place,.and this time,
and this company
are just right for me
See? All this has been prepared
to give the opportunity
for this learning, this growth,
this coming to understand
the timeless truth
I can receive
right here, right now.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 27, 2020
I’m still thinking of that spring
whose source is deep within you –
how it orients you
even if you hardly sense it there
And I’m thinking of the welling up,
the rising that no spring resists
that pushes what would block it
clean away
There is a river,
yes, there is a river,
there is peace like a river
surging forward without end
And yes, it calls you,
it calls your spring forth –
you have flowed into it
before you knew you would.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 26, 2020