Thursday, December 29, 2011

The Forest of Two Worlds


What is the forest of two worlds, 
you ask.
Let me take you there
Where with one liquid step, you disappear
from all the ways you measure, count and tally
from every disappointment—
all the ways you’re sorry
Tasks you think precede your satisfaction
Annoyances that bait you for reaction

In the forest’s second world
You find yourself entrancingly aware
of everything that sings, 
all that unfolds 
in brightness, 
and your strong deep care
for life that pulses with you,
For each breath you share, 
and what the sharing gives you
and the grateful prayer
that leads you to acknowledge
The perfection of your place
In here and now, in union
And in blessed grace.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 29, 2011



Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Not Dancing


The only way to not know how to dance
Is if you’re sealed up in a wall of “don’t”—
“Don’t move like that, your timing’s off,
You’re moving up while everyone is moving down
You haven’t learned the steps, you’re slow and stiff
Don’t be a fool, an inadvertent clown.”

But every atom understands the grace
Of flowing in its chain of interaction
Each receives its impulse in its place
And sends it on in effortless reaction

The way to learn to dance
Is to let the impulse grow behind the wall
Till even it must move, must join the music
And all your being answers to its call.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 28, 2011


Tuesday, December 27, 2011

When we came together


We stepped into the forest of two worlds
where we could slip between the bars of light
and find each other in a separate place
where all our ions perfectly aligned
A quick magnetic jolt
an eager cleaving
synchronizing currents
swift believing
in all the signs of foreordained connection
the wonder of impossible perfection
Time slowed down, each movement magnified
Something monumental signified
in every touch.  And we were holy, sanctified
Anointed for our mission
as carriers of light
Keepers of the current
of that quickening delight
which can’t remain contained—
Its nature is to grow
till everyone is with us
caught up in its flow.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 27, 2011



Monday, December 26, 2011

The Day After


Our sorry state: we are distracted by
Cacophony of year-end clutter
All the things that fell and lodged
In places where it's hard to clean them out.

Too much packaging that came with gifts
Plastic that we need to throw away
Scrumpled paper lurking 
in the corners behind chairs
Backlog on to do lists for the day

The sun that showed for just five minutes
Prior to diving into overcast
Is heading downwards now behind the clouds
The dark of early night will overtake us fast

And if we scramble, maybe we can overcome
The tasks and trash and distant blare of commerce
To find the peace we hoped the season promised
Establish order and reclaim our home.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 26, 2011


Sunday, December 25, 2011

For Edward, Christmas 2011


The words have been said, many times.

What matters more than words
is the homing
That which keeps us turning
back toward each other—
Some internal balance that is set
for us to always seek to lock together
spin as one—
A part that always searches for
its counterpart.

Home (for me) is where you are
and where we are
when we are one
When we stream together
Lie along each other
plunging down the course of life
like river currents side by side
that race and laugh and dip
and reconnect
Joyous whitewater of reunion.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 24, 2011



Friday, December 23, 2011

Blessed darkness, sacred light


Here where the symbols
have worn thin—
Thin enough for holes
and transparent patches
Broken threads dangling by threads
Small connections lost
throughout the fabric

Here where the symbols have worn thin
from overuse, and being used to carry
that which shares no essence
with their purpose
That which seeks to co-opt 
all we value

Here where darkness offers
welcome respite from the blaring signs
I seek to bow my head and close my eyes—
To take the time
for that deep stillness
and the darkness of my waiting silence
to form a frame to see the sacred light.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 23, 2011



Thursday, December 22, 2011

Self Soothing


I.

From the spun out galaxies

They are coming home
The stars they flung in wild abandon
They are bringing back
The canvasses they painted
They have taken down
And if they come back cold
And if they come back tired
And if they come back desolate
Here are arms to hold them
Here is warmth to radiate
Deep enough so they can leave
All the long and fruitless miles
All the hopes that came back empty
Deep enough to let them rest
Till they can gain new life as stories
All of my questers
I let them come back
And that which comforts me
Will integrate us all.

II.
Some of them are asking me
Did we really have to bring back
All the stars?
Maybe we left some out there—
Could that be OK?
What if there are really whole swaths of them
Shining up there with the slender, slender crescent moon
While frost settles gently on rooftops?
And maybe space really is
As big as we mapped it
And maybe you can really have it!
—Hush, children.  Sleep for now.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 22, 2011



Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Journey


I have been on an adventure
Coming back, I could call it
A time of input
Or a time of utter uselessness
(No to do’s accomplished)
I had to take time
To let the impulse dissipate
And return to the world of
All that I’ve earned
And all that I owe
And what I pull daily
Through the hours —
That which I have called reality —
So I regain my steadiness
So become grounded.
But listen!
There is a different world
Or there is more to this one
Than I had imagined
Each day full
Of possible mind-corridors
With their secret bright
Bursts of delight
And sweetness.
I can go there
And bring these fruits back
They can adorn my moments
I need never be prosaic again.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 20, 2011



Monday, December 19, 2011

Goodbye Aphara


The time of grief for a dead bunny
Seems to be about forty-five minutes
A flowing of real tears
And loud cries
As the love bonds are being released
Hands gently, but forcibly unclasped

I see them let go
And let the lavish love
That they bestowed on her
Through many years
(Wherein she grew quickly
And then they also grew quickly)
Home slowly, but steadily
Toward themselves
Return to where it can serve them
Multiplied by their having given it
Ready to be given again

So we said goodbye
Light bundle of fur and affection
Leaving a hole in our days
Leaving her kiss in their hearts.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 19, 2011


Sunday, December 18, 2011

Opening


It wasn’t an obvious change

Not like signal flags strung up a mast

Each letter’s pattern flapping brightly
Not like an avalanche
Taking down half a mountainside
Not like a rite of passage
Attended by ceremony and celebration
Process and resolve, 
Admonition and attention
Just a small door that was there all along 
Now quietly unlocked.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 18, 2011



Saturday, December 17, 2011

Distance


We glided in boxes
Carefully separate
All of our movements
Elaborate jockeying
Choreographed to allow
No touch
Our only signal
The desperate gleam
Of hope for some contact
Through the very words
That kept us apart
And the shy aloofness
Of propriety and habit.
(Habits as old as our parents,
Learned from them, who no doubt
Learned them, not on purpose
From their own)
When all we really wanted
Was the boxes to dissolve
The boxes of manner
The boxes of habit
The boxes of clothes
So we could melt together
And be one.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 17, 2011



Friday, December 16, 2011

Perspective


The truth endures in geologic time
Where stones, in their inexorable leisure
Form and re-form,
Sifting, vaulting, melting,
Crystalize in metamorphic treasure
And all the impositions on our days
The despotism, lies, and power plays
Are nothing - have no weight
And own no time
And can’t establish anything that stays.
What though their dark impress has pulsed
through generations,
dampening their light?
The voice of truth is not reversed
and so it dawns
on every sight.
These dreams will prove
ephemeral, irrelevant
Our waking rocklike, pure
eternal
Heaven-sent.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 16, 2011



Thursday, December 15, 2011

More than survival


It may be
that love is so potent
we can survive
on just a tiny bit
We may think
if we can have
enough love to survive
we should be happy
We should then be willing
to slave through our days
herded and cordoned
cogs in massive machinations
of meaningless things
We may have been told
we don’t deserve more
That if we’re lucky we’ll have
a few loves in our life
which we can string as charms
along our chains
and limp from year to year
between the times our loves have shined
But look what we can have!
Look how love dissolves
all the expectations
Look how it fills us
and teaches us
We need more than survival
We need this love
that has filled us once
to now be here constantly
We need it to spread
like a flash flood
till it redefines everything
All landscapes now filled
with its presence.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 15, 2011



Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Dowsing


I.
Hands high, palms 
facing outwards, head back
An attitude of seeking
Hoping for a jolt of
some kind of spirit
some kind of truth
(or that which wafts in
on cellos’ orchestrated chords
that tug across you
swaying you inside
lifting your essence in supplication)
You wait.

II.
In the soul’s-mirth dawn
where melody has traced
a path that wandered
till the whole song was covered
and the rising chords suffuse the background
(rose and orange and magenta)
You shake off
the benightedness of night—
its last remaining muddles
dispersing like water drops
now bright with sun
Already so immersed in Spirit
you don’t even need to dive.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 14, 2011



Monday, December 12, 2011

Prisons


The door’s loud clank signifies
the guard has unlocked it
I can push through it
and walk in
Each permission
parsimoniously meted:
If not expressly granted,
it is prohibited.

But this is just
the most tangible form
of so many prisons
So many gated runs
we are herded through

Here is my trick:
I won’t fight against these bars
or any others
I will quietly slip out this way:
I will let my spirit fill
until I know
All of me is Spirit
and so I am (materially)
Uncontainable 
Unconstrainible

I will not ask
what I am permitted to do or be
I will let who I am
(all Spirit)
do the defining of me
So, easily,
will I be free.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 12, 2011



Sunday, December 11, 2011

Perception Play


The picture splinters
Goes kaleidoscopic
Gyrates sixfold
Glinting shards
Triangulated scenes
Reflected in converging mirrors
Too dazzling for clarity.

Turn the scope around
Let the edges melt
Let the bright refraction soften
Let sweet tears wash all the scenes
And then
Hold the scope back up
And look again.  


©Wendy Mulhern
December 10, 2011



Saturday, December 10, 2011

Deep


My love goes
As deep as it needs to
Down all the way to where you crouched
To where you needed to be wrapped
My love will hold you
Because it must
And I 
I will thrill with the journey
Excited to know
How very deep
My love can go.


©Wendy Mulhern
December 9, 2011