Sinkhole

There was a sinkhole

underneath my calm,

It took me down,

it let me sit in darkness

while the damp spot seeped outward,

It let me be suffused

with what would probably

condense as tears

if more collected

But I couldn’t stay there,

for there was simply

insufficient depth

to make it worth the effort

And the sun was shining

and there was more life

in forgetting the whole thing

and moving on.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 31, 2014

To the Core

There is no easy path

There is no glib path

and when you go under

into the dark and twisted course

that brings you to the depths,

you go alone

No one can go through the fire for you

And no one, like you,

will be lit up by that singular glow

found only at the concentrated core

— heart of everything —

Your light is like none other,

like no one else’s.

It’s your integrity

that compels you

to take the dive,

It’s your integrity

that brings you out alive.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 30, 2014

Sentinels

The deep relaxation waits

for any signal that you’re willing —

It comes in deep breath

and in the quiet touch of evening air,

It comes in rain drops and in rainbows

and in deep baths of warm water

Any sentinel of peace can impart it —

trees, and seas

and spaces in between the beads

of observation

When you enter,

Embody its sweet rhythm,

You, too, will stand

to welcome any seeker

into the blessed calm.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 29, 2014

Free Will

Actually, I never wanted

the fearsome choice,

the dread responsibility —

Didn’t want to have to pick a course

and take the consequence —

whatever unforeseen rewards

or punishments

might follow

And actually, I never could

employ self-help

to help myself:

Whatever resolutions I engaged

I would rebel against —

more stubborn, far,

than any force I had

I am delighted

to unweight myself,

to cast myself upon the current

of all that loves me,

Ever flowing rush of Spirit

filling all my field of being,

Bearing me along its will

like rainbows, and like waterfalls

I am happy

to be Spirit’s choice

and not my own,

Happy to be ever moving,

ever home.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 27, 2014

Deep Fidelity

Here in the russet and amber curl

(like cedar bark, and secret sap)

I flow in and in to you

And there is time —

all the time we need

for us to pour and pool

into the wells of satisfaction

This is deep fidelity,

where our flowing can continue

until it’s done

and there will be no 
judgment where presence ends,

the session

cut off —

There is no running out

of holding you

This is deep fidelity —

everything you ever need

to stretch out all the way

into your being.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 26, 2014

Tending the Field

The most important field you tend

is your reality.

Our thoughts make up the world —

the lines we draw,

our expectations, hopes and fears,

conclusions,

Determine what flows out

along our dream of day

So what you’re thinking now

is never trivial.

I owe it to my world

to lift myself

from all the mindless loopings

and the tedious replays

of all the things I wish

had gone my way,

And free myself from worry

and the frivolous distractions

that I use to keep the gnawing dread away

It’s time to stand:

What we are

can no longer be subordinate

to patterns no one ever has desired.

We can own

the field we call our mind

and be inspired,

We can insist

that only what serves life

be permitted to exist.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 25, 2014

Real

Within the dream

there still are ways

you can be real,

And real is what you live for

Although these moments

do not map

against the story

enforced by concrete lines

and metal boxes rolling,

and ticking of the gears

that hold the dreamers all enslaved,

they still are potent

Each little shine of real

can throw a light against

the eyes held tightly closed,

can start to drum a reveille

against the drones of sleep

We overthrow the dream

not in its battle

but in waking —

Every way you’re real,

you help us rise.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 24, 2014

Care

The garden will take care of you

if you take care of it,

And is this not the main crop —

your care —

coaxed from you by tender shoots,

arising in your midnight tossings

as you hope your seeds

will sprout robust, and thrive?

So sweetly is the care returned

by bud and bloom

and the sharp taste,

almost stinging on your tongue,

of cress, and last year’s kale,

and dandelion

We are one in our need

to drink the sun,

to draw earth’s water up 

in succulent oblation

and to offer

our greening and fruition

to the sky

We will learn this breath,

this song of our being,

in every place we care.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 23, 2014

If the Web is Strong

If the web is strong

the storms that come

will do no damage to the land

The rain will slap

against the earth’s soft blanket

while underneath

the tiny bugs will thrive

in humid comfort

And wind will lash

the shaggy trees

and they will give, in grace,

And underneath,

for all the smaller living things,

they’ll hold the quiet

If the web is strong,

the energy

will pass from hand to hand

and be absorbed

and add its eager strength

into the earth.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 21, 2014

Threshold

Don’t fear the fire —

You yourself will shimmer

like a flame,

like a force being forced

through a charged field,

magnetic energy pulling strongly

in two directions at once

You will be changed

but you won’t be consumed.

It is ineffable,

inevitable —

You pass through and are ignited

and the silent heat

will ripple as it rises,

combustion of invisible gases

sending flames hotter, higher

This is just the way it is

at this emerging threshold —

Your being flows, transformed,

into the other side.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 20, 2014

(photo by Jennifer McCurdy)

Seedling

Oh I am a seedling,

husk broken open,

tender body pressed against the soil

All these inputs —

taste of minerals and water,

cold of night, warmth of day,

memories of past life

waking up within me,

things I feel but do not understand

I am very small,

at the mercy of all these things,

and I don’t know

what inner resources

I will bring —

They are just introducing themselves to me

now and now and now —

I will see

what we can do.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 19, 2014

Asking for Everything

Here I am.

All I have to work with

is presence,

presence and willingness,

life’s breath and life’s

insistent action.

Today I have asked for everything —

the full-on satisfaction

of all joy,

the witnessing of victory

in overthrowing every lie,

at least in the right here, right now

moment of my engagement

I have asked

for all the good I know

and I have asked to know more —

I’ve asked for everything.

I’m thinking maybe

that could be enough.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 18, 2014

Myrella's Interpretation

In this video, Myrella Thompson performs a movement interpretation to my poem Taproot, read by Love Rising. The Music is Chilled Cream, by Blank and Jones.

Taproot

The roots of your connection

go down deep —

Like comfrey, they reach into the subsoil,

pulling up the minerals

that rise from ancient bedrock.

Whatever artifice has been applied,

whatever degradation of the soil,

you are equipped

to tap the primal nutrient

and bring it back

into the cycle of life.

Don’t ever think that you can be defeated —

Like comfrey, if they chop you,

you will come back stronger,

by virtue of your simple insistence

on the right of life to thrive,

and of each living thing to manifest

just what it is —

not made for any purpose other than its own

and its essential link to everything.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 4, 2013

Prospectus

The infinite canvas awaits!

The palette of thought,

the waves of color and connection,

the currents of harmony —

All we have desired

more deeply than we dared to dream

is ours

to create

in this field of time and space

with this impulse of Spirit

So we are designed

to bring all possibility

into being,

to know the fullness

of this moment by moment

dance

of all art,

of all music,

of all life.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 16, 2014

Saturday Late Afternoon

I like this curl on curl

of you and me together

I like this curve at your neck

and how my face fits into it

I like your warmth

and the warmth I feel

as I hold you in my heart

We don’t need words for this —

the breathing is enough,

and the intersection

of our days of work —

Work of our hands

Work of our hearts

Following lines of fulfillment

all the way here

to this well-earned

place of rest.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 15, 2014

Observations of the Day

I.

The central sun

is hot enough

to reconfigure everything,

take it to its core,

restore it to its primal element,

recombine, release

and let the energy increase

as it radiates the essence out again.

II.

There is serene joy

in moving with the primal ebb and flow,

uniting in the oneness of volition

with wind, with sand

with stars, with trees, with tide.

III.

I need you to believe

my arms will hold you,

Need to feel the weight

of your release,

For in that weight you’ll know me

and I’ll know you,

and that is where we give each other peace.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 14, 2014

Uses

Birds flock and thrive in Useless Bay

and a profusion of sand dollars

finds the shallow waters perfect

In the great long breath of the tides

So much life is nourished —

No bay is useless.

No one is useless —

Each being is designed

to serve its own purpose,

Not the blind command

of someone else’s machinations

but the fine demand

of all that strives to live

And though it has been hidden,

By and by you have to see

that who you are, for you,

has never been frivolity.

No moment of your being

has been wasted,

Each breath has served

your existential purpose

And who you are has always been

precisely 

what the universe 

most needs for you to be.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 13, 2014

On Touch

Last Sunday I did a poetry presentation, with the help of some friends. This video is longer than fits the flitting attention span of social media browsing, but it develops an idea that I’m currently very excited about. I’ll post shorter segments as we are able to get them ready. I also look forward to sharing my friends’ presentations.


)

Pre-dawn

There is a time before dawn

when it feels like it will take

a long, long time

for that thin hint of light

to reach across the huge curve

under the horizon,

and all of yesterday’s heat

has dissipated

and a deep cold has settled in,

and your vigil might be intermittent,

sometimes driven under

by fleeting clouds of sleep

It feels like it will take 

more waiting than you can endure,

But then the light

leaps across the whole sky

and glows behind you, too

and the stars hold their peace

and morning comes.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 11, 2014

The Gift of Here and Now

I offer this moment —

Gift to Spirit,

Gift to the ever unfolding presence —

This time of the half moon gaining strength

against the deepening of evening,

These trees, now in silhouette,

with their occasional hushed

lofty observations,

This time of walking

on the quiet pavement

while distant traffic roars

and headlights sometimes loom

down the suburban streets . . .

I offer this moment

and wait to receive

in whatever way it may come

the gift of here and now.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 10, 2014