Looking Forward

We stand at the brink of August

and consider the color changes —

grass from green to flaxen,

daisy stalks to brown

Sunflowers dominate the garden,

tomatoes coming in,

red tassels forming on the corn,

unknown peppers in dark green

There will be other years

when we can shepherd this,

when we have time and infrastructure

to tend the land —

for now we’ll do the work

to make us ready for it,

so we can read the signs

and understand.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 31, 2019

Hymns

We found songs in the wilderness —

some were left for us

by ones who had traversed the path before —

they told of things

we hoped one day to see

Others rose out of the rock

and the work, and the constant travel,

and the bone pure perception,

in the air, in the stillness,

of the Truth that guided us

along the searing way

We sang songs in the wilderness,

and as the land began to green,

we recognized some things

that we had sung about so often,

only guessing and imagining

how they might be

We sang songs of the wilderness

resting in the promised land, rejoicing in the gardens,

learning the things our songs had named,

also remembering 

how we were inspired

when we were headed here

from far away.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 30, 2019

Regeneration

Come back home, little one —

it isn’t far — it’s right here, in fact —

let your curled up body

feel the comfort of the floor,

the cradling earth beneath,

the sky blanket above

You can come back

into yourself, you can feel

strength flowing to you from within.

You don’t have to put on a perfect face,

don’t have to feign invincibility.

What you are will bring itself full circle,

as you wait for it,

when you’re ready,

you can stand up whole.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 29, 2019

Your Spirit Today

The trees give shady respite —

I see their gentle breathing

in the rise and fall of limbs —

they are at peace with wind,

with Spirit

You are like that today —

in the calm of your demeanor

I feel the day breathing,

your spirit a balm against the work,

your steady motion

bearing us forward

along the course that we are learning

not to plan so much as ride,

not to engineer so much as live.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 27, 2019

Crickets Returning

We looked up, delighted to hear

in small strains, the refrain

of crickets returning

Soft, intermittent, rising and falling,

not in the trees where we heard them

in previous years,

not as a constant, a chorus that stretched

through the days and the nights of the summer

But cricket song, still, here in the fields,

slowly increasing to fill up the late afternoon —

a light recompense

for things we have lost,

a reminder that everything changes,

and things that are missing

can also return

to be loved and rejoiced in once more.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 24, 2019

The Place of Adventure

This, right here, is the place of adventure,

here with the hole in the clouds

where blue sky sounds through,

here with the broken bootlace

and the black bugs that ate our greens,

here with the work that needs to be

pried and prised from our powers of invention,

and then, on top of that,

needs to be done

This is the place of adventure

where we plumb the depths

of our understanding, then go deeper,

where we live in the light

as far as we know it

and still keep going

There may be other adventures,

years down the line, lifetimes away,

but this is the path by which we’ll get there,

placing our feet down

in every step of today.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 23, 2019

Quick Release

Today I see the value of a quick release,

the way I can unhitch myself

from trains of stories, when I feel them

careening towards a cliff,

when my emotions

have set up camp

and prescribed a course of action

that entails me crouching in the mire

of hurt

I asked myself,

which would you rather?

This, or being strong, resilient,

competent, and free?

— That was my quick release —

my choice was clear —

to leave the crouching mire

and center, here.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 22, 2019

Day of Freedom

And now I’ll tell you of the time

when we all took off our crooked glasses

and shook our heads to focus our surprise

and spent some puzzled moments

trying to readjust our eyes

but then admitted

that here and now, as never

in our prior experience,

we could see

— because no longer did we need to fear

what someone else might think of us,

no longer did we need to squint

to weigh each other in the scales,

no longer did we think that judging others

was something we or anyone

was tasked to do

So we were free —

free to move with all the strength

and competence, and sweet compassion

that we always dreamed comprised our being,

free to love, with no fear of rejection,

free to trust our clarity of seeing.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 21, 2019

Morning Prayer

Let me feel Your presence

like morning dew

that settles in so gently,

occasioning the tiny movements

of my thought, the small adjustments

that let the truth sink in

so I am nourished,

so I am changed

Let me respond

in opening of new blooms,

the possibilities Your truth advances

in places where the untrue myths

have melted off,

the startling expanse

engendered by Your everpresent light

Let me grow into it

in just the pace that You design,

calling me by name,

saying, “you are mine.”

©Wendy Mulhern

July 20, 2019

The True Thing

The true thing

present in this green and golden

afternoon, with events suspended

while time ripens

and firs sing wind songs

while little birds converse

The true thing,

older than all the human stories,

newer than anything we’ve thought before,

is Life’s unfurling of itself

in multiple dimensions,

in ever awe-inducing harmony

for all of us to be.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 19, 2019

Life Power

In the dream, the little girl

pulled the shining life jewels

right out of the air,

and when others scrambled for them,

reaching out in desperation

for the ones that pulsed with power,

she seemed surprised. “It’s right here,”

she said. She opened up her hand

and pulled out more

On waking, and in latter days,

I find that what she said is true —

It’s right here — infinity of life power

waiting to be pulled out from the air,

waiting to be lived.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 18, 2019

Slow Learner

I am learning

it’s not enough to sit

well beyond the fray,

and see, with eyes amazed

at loftier perspectives,

the inner workings of the human scene

It’s not enough

to see the heartache and the failings,

because, if I can see them,

they are mine —

mine to soothe and smooth,

mine to see whole

If I haven’t seen that yet

then I’ve seen nothing —

there is no wisdom

but the one that heals.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 16, 2019

Summer Communion

The heat comes on sudden

and the garden

which yesterday looked lush

looks parched,

and our efforts

which yesterday looked ready to fruit

appear to face a desert

But my boots have filled

with daisy petals and grass seed

from my ministrations to the young trees

and there is a deeper communion

that makes me feel

like a watered garden

that does not fear in times of drought

and I will stay here

in this more verdant place

until the world around me

does the same.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 14, 2019

Twinkle

A lot can ride

on the twinkle of eyes —

the smoothness of days,

the feeling of having done well,

the ease of incitement to laughter

These things testify

to the presence of

that which engenders the twinkle —

the substance it’s made of,

how it appears

out of what you might think of as nowhere,

thus proving as everywhere

what you may never see

but still most certainly need.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 13, 2019

At the Public House

All these people walk through life

slicing their intersections through the day,

each from their center perspective

with their invisible wake

We could make a pattern

like marbling in a scarf,

we could know, or never see

the change we make in passing through

As to the grand plan of things,

the design that we all make together,

collective results of all of our movements —

that is beyond my perception.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 12, 2019

Using the Devil

I’m finding the devil useful —

someone to blame

for every unkind thought,

for fear, resentment,

and the harsh voices

that want to judge

my every action,

and those of others

I’m finding it useful

to shift the blame

from anyone real

to something that can’t exist,

thereby revealing

how sweet and fresh and beautiful

everything truly is.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 11, 2019

Not on my own

The journey is to great for me —

I am brought, once again,

to my knees,

I have wrung myself out

and hung myself to dry

and will be slowly converted

as with soft wind blowing through,

the song and sun between the trees 

I will be won over

by blessings which must be just here,

though I don’t see them yet,

and will stand forth strong again

after a while,

rested by my ride.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 10, 2019

Stall

Well, here we are.

We seem to have

spiraled down

into this little pool

in which it is not clear

how we’ll ever move again,

how we will get up

and take care of ourselves

and do the work tomorrow calls for

This rain and the warm air

hold us in slow motion

though at this point

we are not moving at all —

tomorrow may bring

a clearer direction

to lift us up out of this stall.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 9, 2019

Today I Offer

Today I offer you the only good that is,

the good that is One, the good that is All

Today I offer you

the good that has no terror in it,

no separation, no conditions —

the good that is right here,

not held at arm’s length

for you to leap for and be laughed at,

the good that you could never fail

to breathe in, to embody

Today I offer you 

the good that has no dark side,

that spreads its loving touch

to every entity — that makes them melt

in love, in joy, in grateful strong surrender,

and no one is a horrible example,

for all are needed in the true design

Today I offer you

the good that changes history,

replacing blame, regret, remorse

with sweet returning green,

with fragrance and with flowering,

the growth circle of being.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 8, 2019

We Call it Home

We call it home —

many other beings

call it home, too —

we find our place,

we make our peace,

we settle in

and start to know our neighbors

We make it home —

many other beings

make it home, too —

we make our place,

we find our peace,

we all are here

in concert with each other

We find it fine —

many other beings

find it fine, too —

we make our place,

we call our peace,

here in the verb

of work and living

the beaded strand of jeweled days.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 7, 2019

The Power Within

The power within

doesn’t need instruction

any more than water does,

welling up and lifting

whatever rides upon it,

flowing out and gathering,

tumbling brightly down

The power within

is not obstructed

by any circumstance or story —

it rises up

and becomes what you are knowing,

it cascades forth,

becoming what you are.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 5, 2019

Fearlessness

They wake up to fearlessness

amazed by the weight of it,

or is it weightlessness? 

— subtle perfection of balance

allowing their hands

to move with precision

accomplishing everything deftly

They wake up to fearlessness

awed by the sound of it,

or is it silence? — the absence

of voices predicting their downfall,

the chorus of joy at their presence

They wake up to fearlessness

one more time — they imagine

never forgetting again

the full-hearted peace

where no demons can even

occur to them — everything given

to bliss.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 3, 2019

To Edward

Though I may not know

in the eternal scheme of things

just what you are to me,

I can say

you are more than my calculus problem,

more than my ongoing test,

more than the mirror

it’s taken me too many years

to recognize as such

We hold each other up

in undetected ways —

perhaps we each receive

direction, motivation,

perhaps we are encouraged

and in our different vectors, strengthened

by each other.

I may be vine

to your trellis,

you may be

bird to my tree.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 2, 2019

Leaning

This can be a space of

leaning into you,

of being quiet,

taking our tone

from the softness of the day,

its cloudiness, mist hanging

in the trees,

evening seeming to come sooner

Feelings can rise like mist

and sit in mind

like low clouds —

we won’t do anything about them

except lean in for comfort,

lean in for support.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 1, 2019