You’re on the path, she said.
That proves that you will meet your goal
As surely as the bike path goes
along the water, from Oak Bluffs
to Edgartown. You can be certain,
as soon as you have turned that corner
(past the town and the wide green park)
that you will get there
For that’s the strength
of your intention
and your work will deliver you,
steady as pedals,
sure as the asphalt trail
to where it’s clear
you want to go.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 23, 2014
It’s OK
if you need to go
down some long path
where I can scarcely follow
(since, at some point, it branched off
into a different world)
I’ll walk beside you
keeping watch
through the thin screen that divides us
And I’ll still be here
when you return
©Wendy Mulhern
April 22, 2014
You close your eyes
and lean
into the strong broad back
of that which loves you
It’s too delightful, for a time,
for you to sleep —
You pull the warmth
into all the corners
of your being
while the soft fresh air
cools your edges
And it’s so exquisite,
all you want to do
is breathe,
absorb this present
as cats absorb the sun,
feel how alive you are
and how blessed.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 21, 2014
I need to know you feel OK with me, he says,
I need to know you’re happy with your choice.
Yes, yes, because we’ve come to here, I say,
Where every moment gets new eyes, new voice.
We can pull up memories
but there’s no need
to re-inhabit the old regrets,
No need to replay
the stings of old injustices,
misunderstandings,
ways we were inept
Even through all those awkward years
There shines a beauty,
there shines a joy —
There were great rays of grace,
great leaps of skill,
great bursts of pleasure
that we carry still
So we can walk easily
down the last hill toward home
in the quiet present
of the falling dusk
We can be happy
in who we are,
We can be solid
in our deep trust.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 20, 2014
Sometimes it’s very clear
that we have what we need
right here, in this house,
with the rain outside
and cherry blossom petals
blowing in the wind
and drifting on the ground
Sometimes it’s a great gift
when sun breaks through towards evening
and we go outside
to walk against the wind
and see the brilliant leaves
in myriad spring greens
against the sky
And small wrens whistle
quiet in the branches of the conifers,
and you go barefoot
so the therapeutic earth
can send its cold connections
up your spine
Sometimes today is enough
to feel the touch of the divine.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 19, 2014
Day’s end, week’s end,
Projects’ projected end,
Cycles of synchronization —
We come around, begin again,
continuing creation
We graduate, we start anew,
We find new work, we gain new views,
Things come around,
Our roots reach out in darkness
for fertile ground
This day is poised, like swelling waves,
before the crest,
We wait to feel the crashing curl —
this moment’s test
This is the tumble
where we know for sure
that we’re alive,
This is the taste of life that feeds us,
This is how we thrive.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 18, 2014
Should I be surprised at truth?
How silent it is, and how clear,
How irrefutable, once revealed!
How much it changes everything
while showing, at the same time,
that nothing’s ever changed . . .
I am committed now
and I will seek it,
wait for all that wavers to disperse
while the solid weight of truth
leaves it unmoved
glinting with the infinity
of its depth.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 17, 2014
Much of the arc
seeks its course in darkness,
following the force of its curve
without seeing
where or when or if
it will connect —
the imperative of its essence
felt in its presence,
though the full circle
has not been grasped
When it reaches completeness —
touches its own —
and the circuit is closed,
the light is sudden
(This, this is what I am!)
And some things that seemed impossible
can suddenly be done
And the unfathomable
comes brightly clear.
In that moment,
quick as the click of an opening door,
everything changes
and you go through.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 16, 2014
I. Morning
I follow the sounds of your movement —
the wheelbarrow’s melodic trundle,
the slow squeal of the front door;
I feel the track of early sun
through the boughs of Douglas Fir —
the cool, the warm, the cool,
the bright, the more subdued
II. Evening
Now the moon
grows brighter as it rises,
The kettle’s mounting pitch approaches boil,
Piano music warbles on the radio,
The old man sits there — possibly he hears.
And you and I have worked
and we are tired, but satisfied —
The day has held us through its arc
and brought us, whole, to eventide.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 13, 2014
We walk, we work
Side by side,
We sleep against each other,
We strive, each in our own domain,
for mastery
We tell our dreams
Stride by stride,
Give counsel to each other,
We circle in our separate thoughts
and then come back
What images, he asks,
will fill your poem today?
Will it be light through leaves,
bare feet on grass,
thick chocolate at the bottom
of a paper cup?
Could be, I smile, could be —
Throw them all in,
See what comes up.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 13, 2014