Tag Archives: friendship

Hello

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I will cherish this hello because
we don’t know when
we might be saying good bye

We don’t know how, we don’t know why —
we might be rent asunder by events,
or maybe we will drift
along the currents of our attention
and not notice
till we haven’t seen each other
in a long time

You may visit me in a dream,
I may wake up feeling unmoored
from my accustomed havens.
We may not know how
to talk to each other anymore

But all this speculation
may be keeping me
from this connection,
this perception, this igniting,
this hello.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 30, 2018

Helmsman

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I see you there
steering your ship
behind eyes that you feel
not quite tall enough
to see out of,
reaching for the controls,
confused about which one does what
and how much force to apply —
I see your bravado, and
maybe a few of your other veils

Don’t worry — we all feel that way
at least some of the time.
I know we all want
the same thing —
Here — have a little gentle laughter,
the kind that tells you
you’re eternally accepted, the kind
that lets you know
you belong here forever
in the home-free tumble-fest of life.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 25, 2018

First of October — Day’s Report

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after-rain

The rain was gone as quickly as it came,
but not for long. You could hear it first
on the far hills, as it made its way
down to the valley, and swept up
through grass and trees.
There was sun across the field
and a rainbow behind the dark firs,
and there were sparkles in the needles.

Again and again it came around.
Sometimes we were racing against it,
sometimes we were waiting it out.
Sometimes we were content with our condition,
sometimes less so.

We tracked a lot of mud onto the porch.
We made mistakes, corrected them,
discovered problems, fixed them,
in contrast and in counterpoint
to all the day’s moods

Brightened, towards the end,
by gifts of color, friendship, sustenance,
we came in from our labor satisfied.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 1, 2016

gift-from-susanne

We Will Laugh

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dandelions

And most importantly,
we will laugh. We will laugh
in the delight of the life window
another’s story provides, we will
laugh in the sweet touch of a compliment,
in the glow of the overflow
of appreciation

We will laugh at lightness, we will laugh
at Taking Ourselves Too Seriously —
not to close anyone out
but to bring them in, to remind them
none of this weighs more
than dandelion fluff, it is all carried
in cushioned tenderness
through the laughing back eddies
of a larger current
which ultimately delivers
that which really matters
to its starting place
in the waiting land.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 23, 2016

 

Shelters

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shelters

Later in life, I’ve found
there are many kinds of shelter,
many ways we lean upon each other,
many structures that give us what we need

(fairy tale castles, after all,
being hard to come by,
and within, beset by drafts and rodents,
picture perfect cottages proved lacking
in dimension)

I have a lean-to in a corner of my mind
that’s made of nothing, as far as I can tell,
except my love,
I have a fire
that delights me every time
I find it still burning,
its cheering flames
produced by time with friends

I have a sense that after
all my fumbling efforts at this life,
the shelters lost, or casually abandoned,
I’ll come to find that nothing mattered,
and everything did,
that shelter resides
in any circle of support,
and they are numerous
as crystals on the shore.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 28, 2016

Starting Over

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bricks

They often wished
they could start over again —
debts cancelled, unfortunate words
retracted, sideways first impressions
wiped away

They had the feeling
if they could only be seen
in their true light,
they would be understood,
if they were given a chance,
they could convey their true regard

Let us then consider:
Others have wished this
as much as we have.
Let’s give them a chance
to start over.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 28, 2015

Refuge

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Richmond Beach froth

We slide into laughter,
an intimate cove,
a secret cave,
a place between the sky
and the deep
(the wet of tears at the edges
making the rocks gleam)

Laughter like bubbling water,
thirst quenching and cool,
a little ledge we can hide on,
safe from the churn of fears and tragedy,
safe from the shafts of analysis
and resolutions.
We bring up the things
that made us laugh before,
just to keep us here
a little longer.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 24, 2015

Comfort

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Ribbon Vessels Gilded and Bare

This habit of being,
of being together,
of being comfortable in contact,
fitting naturally into the curves and hollows
of each other
provides a wordless nourishment,
a sense of home never achieved
by staid convention
or polite conversation

Our bones know
this is what we need:
We put our hands together
to feel the shared vibration,
we put our heads together
to hum as one.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 11, 2015

Pottery by Jennifer McCurdy; photo by Gary Mirando

Climb

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climb

I was walking looking backward
because my work was beautiful
and my friends were beautiful
and oh, my love was beautiful
and I didn’t want to leave them

But there are turns along this path
and footsteps that require my attention,
There is so much to keep learning —
Things I don’t even have names for, yet

So I will look forward, and trust
that love and friendship,
like the moon,
will still preside over my days
and not be lost
around the many bends ahead.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 4, 2014

Foibles

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four hands1

Perhaps my biggest foible
is to try to hide my foibles:

If I succeed
I have no safety net,
no understanding hands of friends
who have learned how to catch me
when I fall

And when I fail
(at least, at times, it’s been like this)
I am the last to know,
the last to see, with grateful eyes,
those steadfast and ironic hands
of friends who know this foible
and don’t tell me,
kindly shielding me
from the imagined fall
of seeing I’m not perfect after all.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 27, 2014