When all the places I’ve called home
have failed me, when I find myself
at the clench before the fall
or even tumbling,
then I may also feel
the gyroscopic whirr,
the inner humming
of my balance
righting itself,
And I will start again
to find the home
that can’t be taken,
contained, as it is,
in my true essence,
centering and grounding
everything I see,
assuring me of landing
on my feet.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 18, 2020
Today I was waiting,
waiting to emerge,
feeling my light press dimly
through layers of perception,
not quite opaque,
feeling my light press urgent
like running out of breath under water
against a surface the color of ice
And I couldn’t imagine
or couldn’t remember
how I could ever break through,
but coming around
as if from the back,
I seem to have made it OK.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 17, 2020
“Ye shall have a song, as in the night when a holy solemnity is kept”
The song rings through me in the night,
it carries me, tunes me,
holds my harmonics pure
I will be holy,
I will chime through the darkness,
I will find the clarity of inner light,
my footsteps, though unseen, will still be sure
I will keep it, this great solemnity,
for it engenders gladness to the core.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 16, 2020
At the darkening edges,
far, as it may seem, from embers’ warmth,
we may start to forget
what holds us all together
We may need to take a journey
back to where we are transformed,
burned but not consumed,
held up as torches,
where the constant fire that pours from us
becomes our definition
And we cease to squabble
about the forms we take,
or who has more potential
or what brought us down to ash,
because we know that all of us,
whenever we step out,
are caught up in the flame,
becoming light.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 14, 2020
We ended up going home.
Though we tried for a place
with more creature comforts,
the creature of us, it seems,
was most comforted by home
So we went there. As we go there
again tonight, yawning, the back seat
full of clean laundry, as we go there
continually on our life course,
our thoughts homing, our hearts
always setting that course.
We end up going home
iteratively, till we arrive.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 12, 2020
Rain rips across the land,
freshening the air,
wind tousles fall colored trees,
the days are getting dark around the edges,
it’s time for hearth fires
The frenzy of our project
needs to take a pause,
though to be honest, it was mostly
expectations that were reined in –
we hadn’t been progressing all that quickly
But now the walls are under wraps
(and puddles) and I’m lighting fires
to keep our spirits cozy,
and our schedule, once again,
will need to rearrange itself,
and we’ll pick up our feet and follow after.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 11, 2020
I keep going down
looking for a truth
that’s bigger than your fear,
looking for the edge of the rock,
a place to pry it up,
for once I have the size of it,
I will find the all encompassing
blanket to wrap you up in –
you in, and the fear out,
the hole it came from gaping
like where a tooth was lost,
the ground around it soft …
I might do well to notice
that what can comfort you
has been here all along –
I can never know the size of it
but I can know for sure
it is enough.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 10, 2020
It was a good day’s work,
however many times I had to recut the boards –
Recut, remeasure, try to find the place
where my precision slipped. Eventually,
I got them all done. Well, all but one,
which was persistently too short
It was a good day’s work
because I could contribute –
things I could do helped us get through
to the almost where we hoped for
place we ended up
We were a team, and we will be
an even better team tomorrow.
That, as much as structure,
is what we build each day.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 9, 2020
The very most important thing
cannot be marginalized,
spin doctors’ efforts to dismiss
notwithstanding. All the channels in the world
could be tuned to the intent of
squelching out the truth – through lies
and by ignoring it, and yet
Each of us, in our time, goes down
to the very deepest place,
the place we are alone,
the place where none of the clamor
can reach us – the echoes way up high
at the distant surface have no relevance,
offer no aid
And there, once our own howling dissipates,
we find what’s at the center.
The very most important thing
cannot be marginalized,
and nothing moves against it.
It is the motion, and the stillness,
and the reason for enduring hope.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 7, 2020
It hadn’t occurred to me before then
that our work, too, could be haloed,
could glow in the perfection of unfolding,
could be a blessing to both us
and all that touch it
It hadn’t occurred to me that, in fact,
it must be haloed, must reflect
the impulse that brings it forth,
must show, in its development,
and in the gratitude it hails,
the way we bless, the way we grow,
the way we’re loved.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 6, 2020