From a Conversation

Attraction is the need to give your gift,

She said. No need to choose from stories off the shelf

Each summons has its own configuration

Each connection will define itself

If you can keep yourself from predefining 

Refrain from digging ruts into the groove

You’ll hear the music rise, find it aligning

With everything you’ve yearned to give and love

I’ve tried it some, she said, it has its sense

It keeps me in the moment where I am

To ask, what is my gift for this one instance?

Lets me be true to what just now demands

I can’t assuage my yearning altogether

But this is helping, and it’s getting better.

©Wendy Mulhern

September 29, 2011

All is well

The circle spins around again to stillness

The wave has crested and it glides back down

In the ebb it murmurs and regathers

Readies for another go around

Even in this quiet place, there’s movement

Rivulets returning to their source

Slow building for the next essential moment

When once again the cresting will burst forth

I flew! I flew, and I will fly again

Though now it feels most perfect to be still

Give no attention to the gradual build

— When it will break, or even if it will

All’s well — in this soft place I’ll trust the flow

When it’s time to leap again, I’ll know.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 28, 2011

The Daily Swim

(I refer, here, to the Hindu concept of maya as something like illusion.  I am not Hindu, and I might not understand the concept correctly.  But it serves to express something that seems true to me.)

Maya’s myths, like milfoil

Catch at my ankle

If I thrash, they’ll wrap me tighter

Tempting me to spend my power

Till I sink

But it’s water that I float on

And it’s here, and it will hold me

I can glide along here softly

Let the milfoil drag behind

And as the water deepens

They will finally cease to reach

Up to my world, and I’ll swim free

For now, some say “swim gentle

Think of its fronds as caressing you

A tender tickle, nothing to alarm”

Some say “swim with scissors, 

Cut them off, deep as you can.”

Some say “just add water

Floods and floods will do

To drown out tugs of maya

And carry you.” 

©Wendy Mulhern

September 27, 2011

Bringing it Home

(for Edward)

I ride into the bright sunshine

Push against the strong wind

Glide within the soothing shade that lets me see

And I am loved by all of these

And by the sweet air

And by the soft seas

I bring the love of all these lovers

Home to you

You’ll see it in my eyes

And smell it in my skin and hair

You’ll take me in your arms

And they will be there

And they will make you want them

As they make you want me

We all will flow together

As it should be

So with my many lovers

I am still true

Enriched to be with them

And bring it home to you.

©Wendy Mulhern

September 26, 2011

After the Equinox

You step from summer’s warm embrace

to meet the arms of fall

impassioned lover

seizing you with fervent grasp

taking your breath away —

bright promises withdrawn and offered many times

driven rain between the shafts of sun

sweeping you along toward deep adventure

So fall demands that you be new

It calls you to pull forth deep resources

from your inner being

for travel into mystery

It offers you no guarantee

of warmth or soft security

Instead it summons acts of daring

invigorating rigor, fortitude

Calling you to prove, with deeds, your caring

Teaching you a deeper gratitude.

©Wendy Mulhern

September 25, 2011

Anniversary

Today we celebrated twenty-nine years
(One day shy, to beat predicted rain)
Together in the easy way we share
Our days - the comfort we maintain
Through our routines, our challenges, and here
This day we set aside to mark another year.

What holds us close? More than familiarity
inertia, or the fear of something new
A confluence more than a similarity
Of life perspectives, faith, and point of view
As hands may clasp while thoughts are worlds away
Some elemental gravitation
Makes us stay.

We’ve built a store of comfort through our sharing
Of hopes and fantasies, and wild imagination
We each have crossed, with trepidatious daring
A chasm of our fear and separation
So though we move on different planes, we each
Can move into each other’s inner space.

Most of all, I celebrate today
The deepening within us that has risen
From saying yes, no matter what, I’ll stay
I’ll hold with you, I’ll keep your perfect vision
That keeping makes us shine like pearls
That form to soothe abrasion, like lights
That hold up worlds.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 24, 2011

small

to meet my need to be small

to be tiny

minute enough to float on air currents

light enough to not fall

what but a being too vast to fathom?

too grand to feel anything but love

let it fold me in

like a baby mouse

or the hatchling of a hummingbird

or a mote floating

in the infinity of its care

let me lose

all sense of grandiosity

all sense of power

all sense of being something to trumpet

it trumpets me anyway

even though I’m so small

small as the hum of vibration 

on a harp string

in awe

of having been given

my song.

©Wendy Mulhern

September 23, 2011

String Theory

The pull of this bright river

Strong comb along the currents of my breath

Stops me in time

Captures me in wonder

Tugs my being up from unknown depth

And no, I don’t know what it means

And no, I don’t know where it leads

But know I won’t say no

For anything that calls me so

I must respond to

And I will take these strands and hold them out

Between my fingertips

I’ll cast them forth and let them fall like starlight

On these tender heads

Fling their sprays of joy across the room

And make with them a sweet cradle

For a longing soul

To rock and rock until we know we’re whole.

©Wendy Mulhern

September 22, 2011

The Dancer

I wrote this poem in the fall of my freshman year at college.  Mostly I was having fun with the rhyme schemes.  Actually it was one of those times when I felt like an expert skier of words - slaloming down the sounds with ease and grace.  The sentiment, while not one I was deeply feeling at the time or writing out from, was one I could remember and relate to.


     Something wrong, something right

Something true, something trite

All of us are waiting for the answer

Let the song play through the night

The magic shoes are always bright

And who will try to stop the dancer?

Who will try to stop the dancer?

Frenzy spins her topsy turvy

All the scenes are blurred

She celebrates in sorry fury

While we wait to hear the answer

Who will try to stop the dancer?

Someone said it’s good to sing

And see the images expressed

But all the joy is spun away

And still the dancer finds no rest
    And something's wrong - she's no more blessed

She’s crying, asking why

The shoes give no reply

And why won’t someone try to stop the dancer?

Sluggish days and sleepless nights

Though hand is dead, the pen still writes

In limp ink, tired assignments

My mind seeks realignment

But no one here can find it

And we’re still waiting for the answer

Who will try to stop the dancer?

©Wendy Mulhern

Fall, 1975

What Joy Looks Like

I’ll tell you what

I’ll tell you what joy looks like

Looks like that cloud

Stretching out its four arms

Against the blessed sky

Curling slowly inward towards itself

And reaching out again

Embracing blue

Looks like that day moon

White as the cloud

Diving down to it

Mouth wide open.

I’ll tell you what

I’ll tell you what joy looks like

Looks like that man

Riding his bike no hands

Clapping to some tune or thought

Only he can hear

I’ll tell you what joy tastes like

Tastes like this day

Leaves smelling of fall

Day full of journey and purpose

And sweet bright air.

©Wendy Mulhern

September 20, 2011

Half empty nest

Heatherlessness still takes me by surprise.

Less so the dried up stalks of summer flowers

And lovely ones remaining once I’ve pruned

And blusterings of wind that brings the leaves down

Iconic for September afternoons.

It’s in the moments in between my conscious thought

As when I may reach out to flip a light switch

Forgetting once again the power’s out

I notice I expect to feel her light touch.

It’s sweet to know that far away she blossoms

To hear, in frequent news of what she’s doing,

The edges of a tale of flight so awesome

We’ll need to read between the lines to fathom.

Or so, at least, is my parental hope

As she transitions to a grander scope

I hold her image clear before my eyes

But Heatherlessness still takes me by surprise.

©Wendy Mulhern

September 19, 2011

Dream Gift

How magical! To wake from dream with laughter

My heart so full of mirthful, giddy wonder

And well-being, enfolding me long after—

Each time I turned and stretched and slid back under.

I dreamed I danced and kept on jumping higher

Delightful float at each crest of the arc

Each leap empowered by a wave of joy

A curling in, a springing stretching forth.

And then at once I found myself suspended

Atop an arc, not needing to come down

And laughter bubbled up all unportended 

And blended with the music’s tranceful sound.

Much later now, the traces still remain

Like inner bubbles, trying to escape

If I could harness them I’d streak

Across the sky, or help someone stand up.

I calm myself, considering it’s true

Each power has its perfect purpose

This energy must find its fruitful use

I give it up to Love, for Love to choose.

©Wendy Mulhern

September 18, 2011

Mind Touch (more)

They said the robot’s jerky movements

Kept her from being seen as human

Although the robot knew the proper cues

The turn of face, of eyes, to hear your news

But what they hadn’t programed for

Or analyzed, or knew to see

Was how the long wave of connection

Moves between each you and me

How that first click of recognition

—Human, kinsman, lover—spotted from afar

Strings a taut line between us, core to core

On which then afterward the signals run

The turn of face, the eye contact, the mirrored smiles

Come later, when we’re already in tune

When every move of mine will synchronize with yours

No wave will fail to flow all the way through

From you to me, from me to you

Each thing I feel, you’ll know

Each thing you know, I’ll feel

Though we may not acknowledge it

It’s surely real

Your wave will hit against the door I finally close

The echo back will show how far I let you in

Though you may have no words for it, you’ll know

My openness will zing across your skin

And if you open all the way, I’ll be compelled

To recognize you holy, priceless, true

Your heart in mine with tenderness to hold -

I can’t escape the Mind touch any more than you

The robot, though meticulously programed

Couldn’t tell

How much at one our movement always is

How deep the input, how apt the response

However much we try to mask ourselves.

©Wendy Mulhern

September 16, 2011