Ashes, Ashes

(regarding today's shootings in Seattle)

Reason unravels

Reasons unravel

Following the rules —

staying within the lines —

is shown to hold no more safety

Anyone can fall . . . 

When the perimeter permitted is too small

to let us range

And it grows tighter

narrowing our path until we pace in figure eights

And we are running them like caged cats

in frenzy, beating out our necessary rhythm

in a permission-starved place 

where there’s no room for us

There will be breakages

and the rules won’t keep us safe.

Ashes! Ashes!

So it will continue

till one by one

we withdraw consent

to any rules that hem in our compassion

and rationalization that results in isolation

and any, all partitions based on fear

We can’t be safe until we come together

in the place that holds us all,

that holds us tender

Refusing scorn, refusing condemnation.

(The only way to bring someone to justice

is to be just

to banish from within the urge to hate

No lashing out in anger can release us

But grief’s collective wail

experienced in union

may let us see each other,

bring us home.)

©Wendy Mulhern

May 30, 2012

An empty page

Perhaps it is a time for breathing in

Breathing in, taking in

Listening instead of saying

Having nothing to convey

Ingesting rather than creating

Letting rushing showers of stories

fall across my vision

Hearing all the sounds

and making no decision

Let the magic coalesce at other sources

Let the message be sent out

by other voices

This yawning blankness of my mind

may well be for the best

Every field, including mine

must have its time of rest.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 29, 2012

Witnessing Joy

I will be a witness for joy

However unsophisticated and ungainly 

it may seem,

however unrefined

I will witness joy

against the voices that deny it,

those who say

you can’t have joy unless you are naive;

your joy betrays

that you’re a little blind

But I will be a witness for joy

For if it’s present here

it’s also possible

in other places

I will claim the simple joy of company

And I will claim the simple joy of music

And I will claim the simple joy of walking free

barefoot in grass, and the infusion

of a little bit of sun into the day

And I will notice:

Joy is held secure in Spirit —

ever present substance,

cause of Life’s self-affirmation —

Every living thing can feel it, hear it

Life takes joy and rises up

unceasing in ebullient celebration.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 28, 2012

Sun Catchers

These moments catch joy

as bubbles catch air and light

In the confluence

of attention and intention

Of expectation and surprise

Of readiness to be delighted

and whatever light refractor

floats into our sphere of interaction:

A bright, chance meeting in a crowded festival,

A long-awaited reuniting of the clan,

A perfect day, and freedom to ride into it

open, ready to be wafted to adventure,

Or this: a tent of time —

Enough of it together

for each of us to open up a secret treasure

to relish as we share it with each other

These lights may now be kept

trapped in the amber of memory

Where they can serve as talisman

against the darkness of tomorrow’s doubts

Remind us, from our cloister,

How we can go out

like bubbles in the wind

and catch the light.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 27, 2012

Salvation

“And I will rebuke the devourer for your sakes” 

As the devourer chomps

more and more bites

from our collective day

And there are ever fewer places

its great maw has not marred

And as we see the things we hoped for swallowed —

their pieces spit back on the putrid heap —

And feel the seemingly inexorable churning

of sacrificial goods conveyed to feed the beast

What can deliver us?

What can deliver us?

Not only from the looming shadow —

swift encroaching hopelessness, despair —

But also from the soporific tendency

to sink in hooded apathy

or hide in empty revelry

To close our eyes as if we didn’t care. . .

Truth can deliver us

The truth of each one’s heart’s desire

must reaffirm its presence

The law of motivations

must ascend in every life

Till all that is perverted falls

and only what is true remains.

“Then will I also confess unto thee 

that thine own right hand can save thee.”

— And each yearning heart

that answers its own call

will help to realign our lives

and save us all.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 25, 2012

Song of the Eternal Body

Each of us is anciently wise

Each holds the source

of the essential sequences of being

Each integrally joined

to that one primal course

The pulse of life, its elemental meaning

Funny how the secret waits so silently —

day by day does nothing to assert itself —

And yet, as oracle, will tell us when we ask

the things we thought were far beyond our grasp

Ripples of mirth, spreading of connection

Bands of support, in joyful integration

The poise of totally assured perfection

is celebrated here in exaltation

And it sings:

We are right here

Where music flows within 

like breath, like blood

And light shoots through

like waves of impulse spreading

We are right here

We hold you timeless in the web of life

and everything comprising us is good.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 23, 2012

Equilibrium

Let your peace return,

spiral inward, homing

There is no perturbation

that can mar its coming

In your internal quiet

the steady pulsing

has never ceased

This reassertion of itself

it does with ease

Outside, the winds may buffet you

May tease along your furls

Try to unravel you

Surge, hiss, seethe

Set you flapping, fraying

Worry at the edges of your poise

But underneath

The currents run their course

untouched by surface winds

And the soft voice

that’s anchored in the truth

of who you are
is still here

and it will spread its deep calm

in strong and tranquil rays

across your sphere.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 22, 2012

(Picture: Wind bowl, Jennifer McCurdy.  Photo by Gary Mirando)

Perspective

He sits there with his dirty hands

And rocks and rocks, and squeaks and squeaks

He has gone vacant

You can’t trust anything he says about his day

You know he doesn’t have a clue what happened.

When he gets up you’ll see

the whitish marks his hands left on the chair

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He sits there with his gnarled hands

still full of all the memories of having worked

still capable beneath the wrinkled skin

They tap against the chair arm keeping time

to some remembered song

Or to the band he marched in once

so many years ago

He rocks and rocks, remembering

The times he won, the times

He proved himself to be uniquely clever

The times when he was master

The times when he was kind

He plays them back, for they affirm him

Repetitious pleasure signals

Looping through his mind

When he gets up to eat the food that I’ve prepared

He’s always grateful: for the food, but more

He’s grateful for the time we share

Companionable repast nurturing

His sense of being wanted, and belonging

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No facts that I observe can stand alone

I’ll always bind them up in explanation

Then let my story here

be one I’m glad to own

that holds my thought in nurturing relation.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 21, 2012

Cuddle Your Curmudgeons

Cuddle your curmudgeons

Lay their heads in your lap

Stroke their hair

But do not take their frowns into yourself

Don’t match their myriad complaints

with irritations of your own,

frustration since you just can’t make them see —

For if you do

you mirror forth 

that same old bitter world

that you so want to tell them isn’t real.

Cuddle your curmudgeons

whether they live within you

or are people who in some way

share your life

For if you do, then day by day

you’ll show them

Life’s more than disappointment, stress, and strife.

Cuddle your curmudgeons

For they are tender souls

They need to know your care

is unconditional.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 20, 2012

Day’s End

Quiet evening closes in

Light gathers into lamplit circles

Sky outside exudes its final magic

Trees recede serenely into shadows

All the ranging efforts of the day return

Pool their energy into the center

Strong internal processors now softly burn

assimilating what the day has meant

Each time of holding up the light 

has played its part

Each act of empathy 

imprinted in your heart

will bring its fruits 

in surer shining of the truth

to satisfy your soul and bring rebirth

and serve as affirmation of your worth.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 19, 2012

Howling

Go ahead

Stomp if you need to

Raise your fist at the sky

and scream

Swear, howl, wail

Your thoughts aren’t holding up the world

Your actions, however desperate

can’t damn you

The Love that holds you

is well able to sustain the world

and you

through this storm

whether it’s your storm

or all the world kicked up around you

whether you feel you have been bad

or feel you have been wronged

It doesn’t matter

You can rest

The Principle that turns the worlds

will keep on turning

Your drooping hopes will raise their heads

towards morning.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 18, 2012

Approaching You

The way to your open heart

and the way to mine

may be the same:

When I care more

than any calculated consequence

And I listen

not to words 

but to the cry beneath them

And I hear

not what I’ve thought before 

but that which calls right now

And I ask myself:

What does it feel like behind those eyes?

I may approach you

And if I see 

that flicker of a kindled hope

And if I feel

its resonance within

And if I shine

that flicker back in affirmation

I may arrive.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 17, 2012

Infinite Permission

The One who made you

never said

Only take a little love

a polite small serving

(being sure to leave plenty

for everyone else)

The One who made you 

never said

Just show a little of yourself

not enough so anyone has to notice

(don’t be a spectacle)

The One who made you

gives you infinite permission

to take all the love

you possibly can

(for in taking love, you multiply it)

The One who made you 

gives you infinite permission

to shine forth everything you are

(for otherwise,

Why would you have been made?)

©Wendy Mulhern

May 16, 2012

Forgiveness

For this great silent gift

that’s called forgiveness —

Release of gracious fragrance

to the air,

Permission to surrender my agenda

for a fine peace to cherish and to share —

I give my thanks,

For it came down so softly

Independent of my wrestling mind

It healed my wounds, erased my anguished pain

and let my inner tones be realigned

Though I knew forgiveness was required

It wasn’t something I could do alone

Ah! It was given me from somewhere higher

A truth reverberating in my bones

With this gift

I know that I, too, am forgiven

Released from all the knots wherein I writhed

To walk through slender rays of present heaven

Bright halos hovering around my eyes.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 15, 2012

Thought Channels II

Don’t have much to say

I must sit and wait

till my internal waters settle down

The turbid sediment, roiled up

from stream beds used to quiet flow

from banks above where waters mostly run

Must make its way

as far as it must go

till it can clear.

Then I’ll see

just how the course has changed

What views will stay the same

What places where my thoughts and hopes once dwelt

will be no longer fed

and so dry out

What unexpected new course I might find

of love to feed and occupy my mind.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 14, 2012

Processing

How will you remember these —

Swing of hammock, song of trees

Blanket filling in where sun has ceased?

Wounded thoughts that need to be released . . .

Every day I send these bobbing forth

Always with earnest hope that some will see

Encapsulated, bottled, swiftly corked

Love notes to my community

There is no string to bring me with them

I can’t expect them to be met, I know

They must be free if I’m to truly give them

I send them out, and I stay here, alone

The sun is sitting in the tops of trees

The wind, affectionate, still musses up their leaves

The afternoon slides on towards evening hours

Punctuated by suburban crows and cars

Evening evens everything

Draws together trees and sky

As here and there become the same,

Things that were distant softly unify

How will you remember this?

You’ll wrap it in the evening scents and sounds

You’ll bring your peace to reign, and here is how:

You’ll set your steady anchor in the now.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 13, 2012

Counsel

I can’t tell you what it’s worth

to work alongside someone

steady repetition, finding rhythm

common effort toward a common goal

getting grimy, overcoming awkwardness

gaining growing comfort in the job

I can’t help you choose

whether to engage

in this thankless task of working with your dad

who will not thank you, who won’t be counting points

but will slowly feel companioned by your presence

And if it’s not done willingly

you might as well not bother

might as well go hang out with your friends

I know that it’s worth something

but I can’t tell you what

I don’t know what it’s worth to you

I don’t know what you’ll get

I don’t know when you’ll know what you have gained

You’ll choose, and maybe later understand.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 12, 2012

Lifelines

Many years ago,

a dozing vision told me,

“You have a lifeline to a star.”

I sat up, alert, obscurely comforted

that any chasm I might face 

could hold no threat

and that no danger loomed

of finding my life dull and flat

I had a lifeline to a star!

and it would lift me up

across light years and eons

to my dreams

Little did I know

I have so many lifelines —

distant stars the least of them —

right here

Wind touched willow singing in the sun,

Gentle currents sliding softly,

All the gems of eyes that can connect

are lifelines holding everything together

I move and feel them pull against my chest

Inviting me to heft them, find their swing

and catapult myself

in heady, death defying joy

hand over hand along their awesome web

through this bright day.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 11, 2012

Good Night

Sweet bright day 

draws to its close

Companionable shadows

bring me in

to intimacy’s secret sentences

The moon that tracked 

across the daytime sky

now sleeps, and leaves the cool night

to the stars

Inside the house, the ticking clocks

prepare to stand their vigil

The noises of the day retreat

to leave them looming

It’s my time to surrender

so that dreams can have their sway

as we ride swiftly

through the curve of night

and on toward day.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 10, 2012

Remembering

We walk almost in trance

Remembering

Doing things no one has taught us

Doing them because we must —

Some ancient edict

has brought us to this point

Insistent hunger drives us to the place

where we may find ourselves together

learning grace

Slowly, we pick up and wear the wisdom

Older than the schools

and the long, loud rush of words

and the frantic reasoning

intoned over and over

The words of those who would impose

a logic to their will

and make us think we need to do

the things that scatter, kill

us off, to cull the ones

who for a time can do the bidding 

of a voice that doesn’t care.

But we return

Some of us, at first

Then a few more

We come in ones and twos

But we are many

And listening within

Each of us knows 

this thing we need to do

So we unite

First join hands

Then learn to breathe together

Then learn to hold the space for one another,

To shine the light that magnifies each person’s gift

That brings us into peace and closes up the rift

Till we can weave our separate music into one voice

To reconstruct our primal song, and so rejoice.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 9, 2012


Picture: Jennifer McCurdy Vortex Vessel, Photo by Gary Mirando

Together

If we breathe together —

the whole earth —

in grand and rushing intakes,

curling into every cranny,

long, sustained releasing,

returning and returning

If we fly together

riding on the currents 

and creating them

swooping, swirling, echoing each other

cushioned by the air, ecstatic, gliding

If we hum together

all the toning of our integral vibrations

finding unforeseen harmonics, deep support

joining in the long reverberation

of all we are, and all we’ve been before

Then we shall later walk enchanted

through the richness of each moment’s breath

knowing that no gesture goes unanswered

each movement met by all the ones we’re with.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 8, 2012