Thursday, May 30, 2013

Undercurrent


The swift water runs
under my breath
it is dark and deep
it is not silent
but its tone is so low
it went unnoticed
till I dipped my hand in
and felt its power.
Now it lends a small distortion
to my vision:
I may miss things
on the daylight plane
and notice after a while
that my thought is running
with its current
its murmurings
overwhelming my words.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 30, 2013


Wednesday, May 29, 2013

The Sea of Yes


A sea of possibilities,
a vision coalescing,
disparate desires solidifying,
image of a harmony emerging,
which, if achieved, 
would hold the promise
of unfathomable bliss
that when you taste
will fill your heart with longing
till your mission is 
to make it come to pass

But all the while the subtle sea is shifting
and you can see it’s not in you
to engineer a change —
Just in that moment, you saw
how your thought was drifting
from the perfect vision to the things
you’d need to rearrange . . . 

A sea of possibilities:
Close your eyes and rest
and let your vision reemerge
in the sea of yes.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 29, 2013


Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Seattle Sun


The sun comes out
just in the evening
and it is like
giddy laughter after many tears
where you can feel your breathing
like a big drama
now the storm has cleared
though there’s no guarantee
the flood will not return
on the flash of some re-tripped remembrance.

The sun has come
too late to warm the earth
but old, tall trees
shake their shaggy limbs
in deep enjoyment
and send their glow
back through
my no longer spattered windows.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 28, 2013


Monday, May 27, 2013

Passage


Give me another turn
let me roll in flashing silver
down the curving spiral
waterway, way of light
Let me be delivered
in the way of
shining eucalyptus limbs
wet and gleaming in the half sun
between the rain

All this is —
integral, whole, contiguous —
can’t be mistaken
for anything it isn’t
All this is
displaces
anything that doesn’t have its essence —
Uncompromising fact
whose quality
outweighs all else,
scattering it,
defining everything.
In that royal splash
let me emerge
same as I ever was.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 27, 2013


Sunday, May 26, 2013

Art and Song


Even art,
even song
Rise up from the joy of perfect systems,
echoes of the primal dance of oneness
which everything that thrives
must celebrate

Or in its absence
Art and song reach forth
like species pioneers
beneath the damaged soil
and spread their green above
to help restore that primal dance again.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 26, 2013


Saturday, May 25, 2013

After you wake up


After you wake up
you no longer see the point
of doing things senselessly,
of hauling your water uphill,
and making children sit
like monoculture rows of plants,
not touching, on the classroom rug.

And you no longer can be made
to spray the space between them
with things that kill all other plants
and break the life-engendering connection
whereby they might gain strength
from one another.

You will not force them to grow
by virtue of some outside fertilizer
which you’ve distilled and now will re-impart.
When you wake up
you’ll let them them grow as they’re designed —
a liberation that will also feel most wonderful
to your unfolding self.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 25, 2013


Friday, May 24, 2013

No Hurry


There’s no hurry here
in the wayward wandering of bees
or in the darting flit of smaller insects,
No hurry in the dark, damp bed of seeds
as moisture slowly moves in
towards their center
No hurry in their swell, their split,
their first root sprout uncurling
Or in the turn of sun across the sky,
through soft cloud edges burning

All gifts that softly rise
against the glow of muted skies
or in the brilliance
of their unsheathed blue
know in their code
how they must grow
and so they do

There’s no hurry here:
You, too, can walk this calm,
drinking in the strength of days —
your hope, your balm.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 24, 2013


Thursday, May 23, 2013

Considering Life


Maybe
it doesn’t matter
Maybe all the howling failures
and the little opportunities
that were missed
And all the things you didn’t say
or wished you hadn’t
Were just some of many shoots
put up in hope and exploration
from some much grander system underground
its purpose irrepressible
And some will thrive
and some will be cut off
but all will serve
and in the end, like the beginning,
Life will spring forth
making pathways for more and greater growth.
And we will bless,
each in our niche in time and space
and we will know
There’s no way we can fail
at grace.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 23, 2013


Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Spirit Home


This is where our spirits fly
when they need to be at home,
when they need to be seen,
when they need to stretch out
along the lines of one another,
need to glide in the steady intention
of time-lapsed clouds and plants,
ever attending the trend of our merging,
in sinuous touch of this moment emerging

This is the nest of spirit home
feathered with gifts we each have grown,
welcoming each, in touch and song,
making each shining our own.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 22, 2013


Monday, May 20, 2013

Impending Farewell


It’s a different kind of sadness,
imagining you gone —
Not the gaping hole of
many times and talks, now missed,
But more the sense of
all we could have shared together
that we never did
and how the opportunity
will soon be lost —

A sadness bittersweeter
because lately
there have been a few times —
like pioneer species that grow in,
repairing ecosystems —
A few sweet shares,
A few bright laughs,
Some brave attempts to find again
the closeness
buried under several awkward years

And I can only hope
our separation,
like the drawn-out pauses
in a storyteller’s tale,
will pull us back together in an eager depth,
With our communication easy, broad, and clear.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 20, 2013


Sunday, May 19, 2013

We Will Mend


At some point we will mend —
it is inevitable,
it is our process,
like phloem flowing from Sequoias,
filling in the damage, year by year,
the bark slowly engulfing
all the wounds

At some point we will mend —
We will stop wearing down
the same old fruitless pathways,
stop kicking up dust,
and with it, every chance for things to grow.
We will be still, and with time,
we’ll find what’s needed
to amend the soil
and help the life return.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 19, 2013


Saturday, May 18, 2013

Being Nourished


(notes from the seventh five women gathering)

We wanted heaven
and when we gathered,
each with her desire
for healing, wholeness,
and that light-connection
which we each could feel
was what our essence craved,

When we gathered,
each with unfinished threads
of our own deepest strivings,
having gone as far as we could go alone,
By some bright miracle
and really without any of us trying,
our seeking edges knit themselves together:
In an instant,
quick as light flashing over water,
we each were whole,
we all were one,

We breathed the inextinguishable knowing
what it was like
to be in heaven —
how the strong arcs of our intention
circled one another, held us up,
how we each were lifted
to be a beacon for the others
thus fulfilling 
just the thing we needed for completion,
Thus embracing
what we’ve been and what we are becoming,
Fully tasting
what it is to be profoundly nourished,
what we’ll know to grow to
from now on.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 18, 2013


Friday, May 17, 2013

Another Fairy Tale


They wouldn’t let her see the enemy —
Long drapes hung down between,
refracting fabric that sent the light
in all directions, so she couldn’t see
what was jabbing at her, what she
was jabbing out against.

No, it was worse than that.
If she had known there was an enemy
she would have stood up, summoned her strength,
her resolve.
This was more like something eating away
at the edges of her being,
bland nibbles never noticed till too much was lost.

Well, that’s how it was at first.
Then she stood up to fight
and they wouldn’t let her see the enemy,
until, in some last flash of survival instinct,
she stopped thrashing at it
and turned her sword, instead, against
the deceptive drapes,
sliced at them, as high as she could reach
until they started to fall,
great cascading ripples of heavy cloth,
their weight finally hastening their descent

And she saw, on the other side,
someone just like her,
lost and scared and wounded.
In stunned recognition,
they both dropped their swords,
the clanging sound still echoing
as they picked their way across the cloth
to comfort each other.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 17, 2013


Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Borne Anew


In these past few days
I’ve been feeling
the mysterious lift,
the suspected disconnect,
the unexpected lightness
of sensing that my life
is being steered
by some other hand than mine

And it flies high
and it is strong
and it is tender,
And I can’t imagine
what we may achieve,
But it is bearing me
upward on the currents
of infinity

And I can only let go
of the no longer catching traction
of my feet,
and hold on
to this mighty rising power.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 15, 2013


Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Re-inhabiting


We will learn to walk again
among the plants,
We’ll learn to notice,
learn to know
how the light falls,
and the wind,
and how to help things grow.
We’ll learn the nets of life,
the webs of its dependence,
We’ll see how each thing
fills its perfect place.
And in that natural understanding
We’ll make room for one another,
Re-inhabiting our primal
dance of grace.

©Wendy Mulhern 
May 14, 2013


Monday, May 13, 2013

Shared Prayer, King County Jail


After we finished talking
(in patchwork mix of four imperfect languages)
She held my gaze
and held it
till it became a carrier wave,
and lacking words,
I let myself sink into prayer.
I sent it out across the visual tone
I found the place
where we are one
I found the power
present in the infinite,
the source we share
that nothing can assail.
She nodded understanding
as if I had been speaking.
(“Estoy orando” I said then;
I am understanding,” she replied)
and we did another round,
silent, deeper
till I felt myself changed
in the broad terrain
where we found ourselves —
knew that this was somewhere
far more solid than the stories of our lives.
I hope,” she said, in Portuspanish,
someday I can do for someone
what you have done for me.”
I’m sure,” I said in Spanish,
that you will.”

©Wendy Mulhern
May 13, 2013


Sunday, May 12, 2013

Working


I was shoveling dirt
and hauling logs
and dragging brush,
and my legs were scratched
and my shoes were full of
rotted log dust,
and as I was pushing
the empty wheelbarrow
back into the back yard,
over the dandelions 
and forest ground cover,
back between the chest-high bracken ferns,
the air spoke to me,
its sweet warmth full of spring scent
with just enough breeze to cool my face.
It embraced me from outside
and filled me up within
so my limbs felt present and comforted,
and it said to me,
“This is exactly where you want to be,
this is exactly what you want to be doing.”
I had to agree.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 12, 2013


Friday, May 10, 2013

Mycelium (and ours)


In every interaction
I am healed:
In every interaction
I am made whole,
For this is part of me,
This gorgeous web
that reaches out to know,
to know by loving
and to love by knowing,
to heal by seeing
and to be healed
by the gift of having seen.

So we move
expanding underground to fill the gaps,
so we embrace each other
in our understanding,
So we include
everything that lives
within our circle
So we grow,
eternally enfolded
in one Soul.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 10, 2013


Thursday, May 9, 2013

Comparing notes


When we all come back
from our respective dreams,
We’ll share the things we’ve learned
You’ll say, “I’ve got this down,”
and I will see, with admiration,
how you persevered
through the long parched miles
and the floods
that took the bridges out —
How you built, with your life,
a place on that land
where lush green could return.
And I’ll say, “I’ve got this down,”
and we’ll marvel at the parallels —
All our lives
through such different circumstances
Winning the same prize
Learning the same wisdom
Shining the same truth
right through our dreams.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 9, 2013


Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Infinity


Moving beyond
the common daily round,
the obligations and the expectations,
Moving beyond the thought
of what I am, or how I seem,
I glimpse that if I ever feel a lack,
There’s always infinity

Always the infinite impulse of Life,
Always the fathomless reaches of Mind,
Always the vast, unmarked terrain
of every heart

And I can move beyond
the strictures that confine my thought
within the walls of what I call myself,
and all the troubles that entails —
I have infinity,
and that will always be enough.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 8, 2013


Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Companioned Prayer


Let me take you with me
on a prayer
Where we first plunge
into the wonder of our source —
The nature and the nurture of
the law that holds us
pouring forth the affluence of Life

Then in the insistent,
naturally occurring
alignment of our systems
with what always is,
we’ll feel the surging strengthening,
the calm and gentle ordering,
the unrestrained empowering
of everything we are —
Our hope, our worth, our destiny,
Our interwoven harmony,
The easy, brilliant artistry
written in the book of us
long before the birthing
of the stars.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 7, 2013


Monday, May 6, 2013

Not a foreign substance


I am hard pressed to describe
the slow glide of leaf shadows
gold-rimmed, along the brown bottom
of the glass-smooth, shallow river

They looked like a pod of something living —
One-celled protozoa, magnified many times
They moved like a companionable
group of friends,
drifting down an avenue, arm in arm

The leaves that made them were a different shape —
Pointed, narrow willow leaves
somehow projected into near-round ovals —
And the water’s surface held the leaves so thickly
that they darted from the probing
of my curious hand,
and clung to one another
unless I lifted one
clear away

The ripples that my hand made
radiated out in rings
of gold and shadow
moving slowly out along the river bottom

In my awe and wonder
I only later noticed
from its coolness and its freshness
that this was water
not a foreign substance —
something that I know.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 6, 2013


Sunday, May 5, 2013

Mourning


“Blessed are they that mourn . . . “
Blessed am I,
for I mourn
I mourn the sense of separation.
I shall be comforted
for I shall be brought
back home.

The line of mourning
points me to my love.
My love, within me
is what holds me in connection,
Makes me one
in a bright tie
that never can be severed.
No lie
can remove me
from its truth.
Blessed am I
for I shall be comforted
before the sun goes down
upon my day.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 4, 2013


Saturday, May 4, 2013

Elixir


Full-on Spring,
and the early day
hangs in a feather balance
of warm and cool,
each weighing in
with exquisite tenderness —
constant subtle shifting
singing against my skin
and the air
smells like blossoms and suburbs
and the sweet cleansing
of night breeze
when Spring flowed through me
in the play of mammalian warmth
and clear-sky coldness,
resting me and waking me up
at the same time.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 4, 2013


Friday, May 3, 2013

The law of interaction


Let this be an article of my faith:
That every interaction
is designed to be healing,
That healing is reciprocal,
Mutually regenerative,
Engendering an escalating joy,
So affirming, in each of us,
Our power and our purpose
to co-create life
in just this way.

Then let me look around and notice
this same pattern, in every place repeated,
Life so fully and unceasingly
supporting life,
in interlock of movement, shape and rhythm.

This is you.
This is me.
This is Life, here and now.
This is what we must know to expect.
This is truth.
We can see it.
And we all know how
to birth healing
in every shared breath.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 3, 2013


Thursday, May 2, 2013

Falling


there’s no scrambling
against the falling
everything’s going down
falling like sand
plunging like avalanche
down and down

call it sadness
call it gravity
call it the way everything
must fall to its source
must home to its truth

and at the deepest core of truth
it can rest
rest in the ion-aligned place
where there is no doubt
no doubt at all
what it is
and from this clarity
it will, it must, rise
assert its centered essence
breathe and praise

©Wendy Mulhern
May 2, 2013


Wednesday, May 1, 2013

The edge of sleep


I surface to the strobe-like pulse,
waking after nodding off —
Beneath my still-closed lids
I see a dancing form
bobbing away towards the edges of
my closed-eye vision
Maybe
I’m not, in fact, awake . . . 

(This afternoon, while I was napping on a bench,
my hand shielding my eyes
from the bright sunlight,
A dog woke me up
with a slight, deft lick on my face —
Woke me up, then bounded off . . .

I sat a while, a little dazed
by sun and wind
and sitting up quickly,
Then lay down for just a little more nap
before heading home.)

©Wendy Mulhern
May 1, 2013