Sight

I give my eyes to Truth.

Truth, train my eyes,

in this and every moment —

let me see straight

Catch me before my eyes

connect the dots in some distorted way,

before they draw conclusions

from some vapid, hapless picture —

help me behold unfolding acts of grace

and hidden harmony,

let them spring up before me,

showing me the universe of good

And if I haven’t seen them yet,

let me hold on, unfazed,

let me hold out for Truth’s appearing

in its own timeless rhythm

throughout my days.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 31, 2019

Jewel

Afterwards, what I kept pondering

was the jewel in the storm,

the calm that could only be discovered

amid the raging, the peace

the storm brought out

by failing to ruffle it

even in the least

This is a thing to know about,

this is a thing to remember

even in lesser storms,

and when there’s no storm at all.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 29, 2019

Student

I am an eager student —

I pore over the text

as meaning pours in

Something deep inside

soaks it up, stretches out,

like roots, like leaves, like wings

This is not something

for me to tuck away,

to tell myself I may use later

This is breath, this is sight,

this is the sense of things,

these are my steps along

the present path of what I am.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 27, 2019

Summit

You come back from the mountain

and what gets you is the day to day,

the small decisions and the interactions

that have the same ruts they had

when you were here before —

you think everything should be changed

but it isn’t

This is the challenge

greater than the summit —

to integrate the things you saw

into the fabric of every day,

to walk the same paths

but go up higher,

to taste the mountain air

right where you are.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 26, 2019

Still

In the evening the wind stills,

and the work, though it continues till dusk,

is quieter — no thrum of generator,

no flap of windblown plastic,

just the intermittent buzz

of the skill saw, and the thunk

of extra rafter tail hitting the dirt

Later, we, too, will be still,

still in the aftermath of work,

still hefting lumber in our dreams.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 25, 2019

This Morning

This morning it felt like fall —

fog through the valley, lifting into powder blue,

night’s chill and sun’s warmth coexisting,

different smells in dampness and in dry places,

readiness in the air

A flock of goldfinches

were very happy with our sunflowers,

exclaiming and conversing 

as they landed, swaying,

on the flower heads

I woke up knowing

the only thing real

is the goodness of everything.

I saw it everywhere,

seeming to rest on things

but actually

being what they are.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 23, 2019

A Book

A book is growing in me like a child.

It bumps against my insides

from time to time

I hum to it

when I think to,

I settle into the gait

of its weight

I sense the course of its development,

chapters like ears of corn,

words like the kernels 

Things remain mysterious,

like how it will all come together —

it isn’t mine to pry the answers out

A book is growing in me

like a poem. It will come out

when it’s ready.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 22, 2019

Together

I guess I don’t know how

to pull myself together,

have no antidote

for centrifuge

I’m overcome

with feelings of expansion —

want shining love

for all these people,

want to understand

how this present light

fills them all with the overwhelming sense

that who they are

is just perfect

and how they look

is just fine

and what they give

is absolutely needed,

truly seen and gratefully received.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 21, 2019

Safe

Don’t panic. Don’t sink

from seeing the wind boisterous —

these are just screens before your eyes,

each one of them illusory

as the next

You can walk over these waves —

you don’t have to think

you need to change something

so you’ll be safe

Your security

is in the laws of your being,

the way you’re held beloved

in the Truth that holds everything,

every atom, every star,

in its perfect circle,

in its present grace.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 19, 2019

Abundance of Years

This time in our lives

joy collects in deep reservoirs

in the slow spaces where time

has made room,

in the lack of will to worry

and the willingness to accept

The widened shapes of our feet

echo a broader knowledge

of what can happen

and how much of that

doesn’t matter at all

Appreciation is a ripe fruit

we can pick without judgment

in the ease of laughter

(less work than fretting)

and the lubrication of many past tears,

in the clarity of coming full

in the abundance of years.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 18, 2019

A Fresh Look

It’s easy enough

in the fray of things

to forget what I’ve been given —

simple companionship 

(the stuff of early dreams

portrayed as heaven)

a path to walk, so many ways

to wake up, to see new dimensions

folding out and multiplying views

Beauty of days, beauty of life,

beauty of others (known or not)

beauty of images which, dove-like,

come to rest with me

It’s easy enough to remember —

to let the blessings 

fall upon my thought like rays, 

to be in awe, to be illumined,

to let that light sustain me

and invoke my praise.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 17, 2019

The Facts of Soul

When I came back today

it was still there, where I saw it

yesterday — the house

in its perfection, all the laws of it

standing, in their interlock,

in their prismatic color,

in the certainty of completion,

every vector blessing

I was glad to see it —

interested that I hadn’t known before

that it was here all the time,

delighted to consider

what it will offer us

and what we will give it

in these Soul ordered days.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 16, 2019

Day of Clarity

This is the day of clarity.

This day, in which the words are written,

this one, in which they are read

The vision is not prolonged.

All that I see must come to pass,

or rather, it has come to pass already

There is no waiting

for mortal mind to get it right.

I wait on Truth — which means

make no conclusions

until they coincide

with universal harmony

I’ll wait, even as I see

things falling down, even as

the voices scream that Truth has failed

Truth cannot fail.

It is its nature to be true.

And in this day of clarity

we’ll see it through.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 15, 2019

Rise By Fire

Hold your body to the flame —

you will phoenix-rise again,

this is nothing you can name —

these are your essences made plain

The burning bush is not consumed,

the burning life is fueled by learning,

steady down the steps of days

to your eternity returning

Set your sight on what you are,

glimpsed beneath your deepest hope —

the guiding lights you see afar

are nearer than you’re told

Hold your body to the flame

of all that lights and fuels your being —

this will now define your days,

becoming all you’re seeing.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 14, 2019

There’s got to be a little poem in here somewhere

…in the heat of the day

and our leisurely pace

and our trek into town to do laundry

Overalls and garbage bags,

air condition, internet,

people we would never see

in any other circumstance

We built a wall today

(well, partially)

and we’ll build more tomorrow.

Young turkeys ran before us down our road

while swallows occupied the evening sky

…a little poem emerging

as the air cools down,

leaving space for words

I couldn’t find before.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 13, 2019

In the course of things

Turns out it’s good

for wind to blow through the house,

for windows to be open

I freed a hummingbird today

from plastic we had placed to keep out rain —

it fled my hands

and so got further stuck

until I broke the sheet away

and it escaped

The swallows still fly in and out,

but with the windows covered,

they got confused —

one had to make a stop inside,

perched on a rafter

before it could complete its outward swoop

Yes, we’re in a race against the weather,

but the game has its own rules —

apparently, for now, we need to make room

for others to play.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 12, 2019

Resting

We settle ourselves back

into our closer orbit,

we give ourselves permission

for a moment’s rest

It has been work, it has been growth,

it’s been excitement —

we were willing, we were driven,

we pushed ourselves beyond our edge

Now we return —

it may be just a very short pause

before resuming our stalwart pace —

for now we’ll take the time

to be still,

take time to drink

from the pool of grace.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 11, 2019

Preparation of the Heart

I may bring tears to this process —

it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here,

doesn’t mean I don’t want to be cleansed

I may bring tears —

it doesn’t mean I’m sad —

they are, I guess, a way that I surrender,

a way that I acknowledge

I can’t do this alone,

nor even know the “this” I should be doing

Prepare my soil —

banish the traffickers of worldly ways,

break up the rocks, dissolve the thorns,

prepare my soul,

and I’ll be here to water your sweet seed.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 10, 2019

Ridge Line

When we found ourselves walking

along the ridge line of bones,

landscape swept clean,

the symbols of comfort provision

suddenly gone,

what surprised us

was the singing,

the clear searing melodic

bowing across the edge,

core resonant vibration

We had thought

that if we lacked the cushion

we’d be bereft,

but there we were,

strengthened and heartened

by the haunting song

that filled our every step —

teaching ourselves to ourselves,

walking us home.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 9, 2019

Weightless

And if we know

nothing we do

holds any weight,

we won’t try to sit down

on our achievements

and we won’t fall through them

wondering, as we fall

what happened — why

we weren’t supported

If we recognize

we are held up by our breath —

all we take in, all we give out,

all we see as true, and honor —

we will move lightly through the day

unmired by past or future,

nimble in the turnings of the moment.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 8, 2019

On Love

What we collectively

don’t understand about love

has filled volumes

We keep trying

one person’s map or another,

we feel so sure at times

and then so doubtful,

and much of what we’re sure about 

is false, and as for what we doubt,

who knows if it is true?

And yet we keep on seeking it,

and somewhere deep inside we know

that something in us always loves

and so is always worthy

And any love we know

is real

and it will shine out

through our misconceptions —

every love will purify itself

until, with deep relief, we understand.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 7, 2019

Respite

In the wilting heat

the songs that come to me

are ones I’ve sung before

or heard so often forty years ago

that all the notes are etched deep in my mind

The same with words, with poems,

as lines I’ve read and loved come back to me,

along with ones I’ve written,

and the only way to find new words

is to seek shade, and the space it brings,

for leaves, and lines,

to hold themselves full.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 5, 2019

Bringing Joy

Consider your capacity

to bring joy,

for it is the great gift

you share with every living thing —

it is what rouses you, what feeds you,

what makes you feel alive

There are so many ways,

small and large, that your being does this,

just like these trees,

just like these flowers,

just like these people working,

doing their job well,

just like the swallows that fly chirping

through our open house,

the sheer delight they have in living

lighting us up.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 3, 2019

Patience

Patience moves through layers like breath,

giving each its needed round,

patience lets the frenzy settle

and begins again

There is time, there is time,

there is time for each idea to form,

to reach its fullness,

to let the circle close

There is a firmness that holds

the wind ruffled page,

that smoothes it out

and lets it turn in turn

So may my hands smooth

the tangled, rumpled tasks

so they can lie flat

along the day.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 2, 2019