the end of time

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

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

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

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

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

This Is For You

Quick as color

spreads across the surface

of a water drop

instant infusion

strongest at the edges

May this touch spread across you

excite all your surfaces

so you know

as you ring like a temple gong

This pure sound sings you

Nothing stops this wave

spreading into the landscape

ringing floral bells

spilling out fragrance

calling up celebration

This is you

as everything recognizes

tunes in accord

and rejoices.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 23, 2011

Parental Fiat

Words still crash upon the surface

though my attention is beneath

and my intention is for peace

and I don’t want to make this process

harder than it needs to be

But I will not be moved

I must insist

The line you cross

I must resist

You can’t just toss

all of this

to the abyss . . . .

This will be my discipline: I’ll wait

be careful not to outline or anticipate

the thrusts and feints of some imagined game

Instead I’ll hold the calm

that stretches out beyond

the quarrel of the moment to the wider plain

where who we are

and who we want to be

are one

and all the stridency

is done.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 22, 2011

Solstice

Like a miracle

The celebrated day rose up, spreading its gifts

Bird song long before we truly woke

Then sky embracing early morning trees

with luminous touch of mackerel clouds

Then a stretching space of blue

desperate for warmth

yearned towards the cloud-clamored sun

Later, the day brought out summer

like a father returning home after too long

In my gratitude I forgot my suspicion that

he would not stay

I drank the scent of wild roses, sun-warmed

rejoiced in wind on my arms

a long bike ride

and work to do outside

and family differences to take in stride

as we tumbled to the end

too tired to attend to any more

(A meeting took a bite out of my evening

as if it were any day . . . )

©Wendy Mulhern
June 21, 2011

Thought Balancing

Summer solstice:

We are called

to try to make something meaningful

of this blip in time

But stones laugh

like water tripping down them

and piles of stones fall

with no propriety

like clowns rolling

who know how to fall

by giving and giving

and not standing on ceremony

but letting their inner dignity

fall with them like water

so it stays within

growing stronger

as they sink to their source

And all my efforts can fall 

apart

ignominiously

like bits of fluff in the wind

but that which centers me

will draw everything back

to its compelling core.

©Wendy Mulhern

June 20, 2011

Summer Blooms

I planted

by the light of low, puddly night clouds

reflecting back city lights in subtle pink

some little seedlings of connection

All night

while south wind blew the clouds

over the deep cuddle of my dreams

warmth grew, in orange and amber patches

buds of joy

So later in the day

after the morning’s tasks, the bright routines

the sturdy laughter with my lovely children

the solid circling of our family bond

the work, the play

Those seedlings I had planted caught my eye:

a patch of blooms thick as a pool

a fragrant summons — I could dive

into euphoria

any time I needed to.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 19, 2011

Power Lines

It isn’t that I take them in my hands as threads

— the spinning lines of power —

Not that I grab and tweak and wield them

sending things where never sent before

Instead, the rushing law of harmony

owns me, as it owns everything alive

and every distant echo, every wave —

It tunes them, as to ancient memory

And so you see, the power that spins through us

and wraps us in our synchronistic movement,

coordinates the blessing, so it flows

all through us and beyond, in raptured union

is not defined by me, nor can I use it

but cleaving to its presence, I may prove it.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 16, 2011

A Need

Too many nights, he said

we fall in bed

so late that sleep 

seems like the most attractive option.

We need to make the time

to let the sweet desires arise

to let our consciousness entwine

our skin to hum, our hands to find

each other, and our heat to press together

the compelling friction generate

electric sparks, rejuvenate

our sodden hearts, invigorate

the inner currents underneath our skin

the lights across the many miles within

so that we know

our next traverse of day

though walked alone

will call out chimes of common coursing spirit

in tones so strong that everyone can hear it.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 15, 2011

Shadow Day

A day can seem the shadow of a day

when nothing new occurs, and all that stays

in thought is what came from the day before

the pleasure of achievement, or the sore

reprise of hard exertion.  As today -

which never rose beyond the cold and gray

and didn’t have a glory of its own.

till now, when with the penning of this poem

I hope to raise at least a little indication

that something worth its time here has arisen

that, though a very modest, small creation

one thing at least has exercised my vision

not some great burst of strength to rocket me aloft

just one small crust to feed my need to work my craft.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 14, 2011

The Shine of Every Day

Consider this: the shine of every day

whether a glimmer, thin and filtered ray

or the mute glow of pearl grey under clouds

or bold eye-squinting light that visually shouts

Whether a slender reed that barely bears you up

or bubbles deep within that rocket skyward

decorous pleasure or a vaulting joy

where you’re not sure how you keep going higher

It all expresses something you must know

though in the rush of duties you may well forget

A presence in your life that always shows

you’re not alone, your need is always met

Does God exist? - It doesn’t matter what you say

Just that you see the shine of every day.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 13, 2011

Shaken World

Can’t go another night without a poem

though, running on a path of zebra stripes

I feel I’ve quantum lurched to black from white

the image of my life now bent and curled

slow dawning sense I’m in a different world

a steely world where nothing fits

and bolts attempting entrance leave a corkscrewed sheer

of metal as they grind against the threads

and fail to turn, and ruin the connection

as things begin to flail and come unhinged

and catch the wind in awkward twists

that make them creak and bend

and crash in heaps, their virgin surface

unrestorable.

But can a world so horrible

become my sphere?

Can any scene sail in, take over

force its stamp of misery upon my day?

Can I not quantum leap back where I came?

A world lost in an instant is regained as fast

This scene may shake me but it cannot last.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 12, 2011

Learning to Heal

I feel the power of Truth; its touch excites

and ripples in the torch my heart ignites

I love how I’m alive, but I want more

I want to exercise Truth’s healing power

This fact I know: I need to live consistent

In this, Truth is imperative, insistent

What Soul impels must follow through as Soul

No other cause or god renders me whole

Just as it’s true that if I really love

my love unbinds me, sends euphoria

concatenating down through each encounter

to make my store of joy into a mountain

I can’t go harboring the phantom fear

if I want perfect healing to come clear.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 9, 2011

Wednesday Meeting

It happened to me tonight at the Wednesday meeting that all the readings went straight into my heart.  Images from the Bible that had sometimes seemed obscure to me were suddenly perfectly clear, sometime illustrations of things I was feeling and struggling to find words for; at other times explanations of things I am just starting to see develop.  The testimonies of others continued this line of illumination.

Readings On Change

Every word she read was lucid, sure

No mystery, no image odd, obscure

The Branch will show us what it means to live

You change them as a vesture, and they’re changed

I felt the Branch a coursing of connection

where everything is nourished from its source

The Spirit fount flows forth immutable

and sends clear brightness down its perfect course

I feel the Spirit source in all my being

and how it surges through and makes me new

Its fearless strength provides a way of seeing

that makes each impulse clear, each action true

When forms have failed, they’re lightly put aside

replaced by what the Spirit will provide.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 8, 2011

Another Frozen Thought Falls into the Sea of Love

The structure melts, and every atom, freed,

can dance forth in the swirl of ocean currents

release the particles and join the wave

each impulse starts a chain, and spurs it

far across the water, till at last absorbed;

we see the ocean quiet and inscrutable

though underneath, the currents curl and soar

and waves, concealed, continue on immutable

no information lost, though folded in

to every other impulse, every movement;

the sea so capably accommodates it

and holds all being lovingly contained.

That’s how we move as one, and how we know

each stream of life encompassed in the flow.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 7, 2011

Space and Time

You have the right

to take up all the space you take

and you have the right

to take all the time you need

and you have the right

to be —

to be whatever you are.

There’s room for all of you here

and there’s room for the time it takes

for you to feel at home

and there’s room for you to breathe

and space for your incubation

and time for you to grow.

You are welcome

to everything your soul needs

to be fulfilled.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 6, 2011

Sexy

Sexy eyes

are eyes that see me

recognizing what I really am

Sexy eyes

are eyes that smoke

with that singular vulnerability

of being turned on

They hold me

they promise to take me places

they move with me —

quick concatenations of comprehension

between us

pulling me in.

A sexy body

is one you live in

all the way out to the surface of it

and beyond

A sexy body feels the invitation

and responds.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 4, 2011

End-of-bike-ride note to myself while ascending the hill towards home

They stand there, your accomplishments

You’ve stacked them up from time to time

against the dark opacity of the null set

A house of cards to prop up your self-esteem

or propped up by it, a fragile lean-to

Your master’s degree, the languages you (used to) speak

your second dan in Tae Kwon Do, your job, your home

your status as a wife and mother

Don’t you know

All these things are just wisps

of what you are, seeping

into  this dreamscape

They well may fade

don’t be afraid

Their source remains infinite

Who you are has powered those

and can power many more

can make you ride royal

across the dream

and into awakening.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 3, 2011

Seeds

In the dry time you may hear

the high conversational click of seeds

shoulder to shoulder

camaraderie of waiting

quiet comment of ticking down rain sticks

rolling in rattles, patient in stasis

When the water comes and soaks them through

washes off their inhibitors, you may hear

their oscillating excitement

Brownian tremors, the movement within

uncontainable high of expansion

lift of life.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 1, 2011

Takeoff

At first our words were small

I wasn’t sure they had the room

to hold the meaning that began to rise

behind my mouth and eyes -

the warming impulse of a truth

that I might share

At first my words were closed

but then they opened out

The invitation of a question

led to my expression

and the light came flowing in

filling out the thoughts

Then she picked up an ember

spoke with growing warmth

her face lit up

her smile grew real, and soon

we both were smiling broadly

and someone else was drawn into the glow

And where before our nods and looks

had been polite but short

not clipped but still not free

we now took off - three of us - soaring

a rushing sense of substance

potential, infinity

rising under our wings

bearing us up.

©Wendy Mulhern

June 1, 2011