Going home

 

It's morning, and I'm headed home,
across the sound, across the sky,
my ranging thoughts preceding me -
how wide they fly

Could be we're always going home,
drifting steadily on friendly winds,
finding ways to stretch in our expression
of what we are, and what can draw us on

Could be that what we grasp in glimpses,
the singular bright moments of the day,
will own us more and more, till we inhabit
a realm of light, a swift expanding way.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 30, 2022

Daily grace

 

There is an art to this, a balance,
like stepping onto a thing that flies -
in your exhilaration, to still keep steady,
to get yourself up on a plane
and whoop across the waves

There is an art to this, a balance,
but the principle is steady,
so if you fall, you can regroup -
all the forces will still be there
to catch you up again
when you are ready

And grace, it seems,
is like the wind, and also
like your wings that catch it -
you ride the moment
right through the gusts of it,
whoop in mounting joy
across the day.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 29, 2022

Latch

 

What is it all made of? -
these thoughts, these colors,
this shimmer of wind-touched trees and water,
these family ties,
presence of others I feel,
like air through my fingers while riding no-handed
after they've gone  -
a latch remains open
and a door swings somewhere in my mind.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 28, 2022

Within

 

When things close in around you,
you may begin to learn
it only takes a tiny space
to establish the kingdom within,
which, once founded,
expands to be your whole world,
with you sovereign 
and all the paths that open out around you
yours to inhabit.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 27, 2022

Snares

 

The webs that lurk beneath the surface
can't tangle me, can't tangle you -
our inner impulse must emerge
in full expression, pure and true

These lies we've spent our time in,
these nets wherein we've thrashed,
these tracks we've been defined in
can't last

They're all the same for all of us,
and when we stand still long enough,
deprive them of our energy, they fall,
and then we rise.
We fill the rhythm of ourselves,
we leave them well behind  -
they never have been part of us at all.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 25, 2022

Rainy ride

 

Caught between puddles and spray,
we squirt through anyway,
this being the last leg
of a circuit that started
with a light spritzing from wet road surfaces,
then a soft sprinkle from the sky,
till we were fully inaugurated
by a deep puddle spanning the trail.
So now, wet and sandy enough not to mind,
we coast to the end
and learn of the big sheets of rain we missed
but wouldn't have minded either.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 23, 2022

Internal geology

 

Tears are like pools I can throw myself into -
sometimes I give myself a push,
sometimes I choose not to.
They can be cleansing  or also just messy.
Most times I can shake myself off
and be fine - the moment passes,
a clearer outlook returns

I've never been a person
who almost never cries,
and at some times the water table
is quite close to the surface.
I don't mind, really. Most of the time
I treat them like weather -
let them blow through and be done.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 22, 2022

Celebration of life

 

The cushion of family,
soft as morning fog,
hugs everyone

Smiles are harvested easily
for what they feed us,
and life is celebrated,
not just by us
but by everything touched
in these moments of being,
this connectivity that holds us all.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 21, 2022

Regeneration

 

The day's heat radiates
out from my skin,
now after sunset
when the pink light
has given way to some color
without a name,
I am content
but too tired for thought  -
time to ride on the soft processes,
sink into the wordless swing,
stretch into languid depths -
regeneration.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 19, 2022

Day's Report

 

I feel fine.
The lines of my mind
are smooth  - no ruffles
of family dramas

I have been playful,
I have been thoughtful,
I've laughed, and talked maybe
a bit too much, but with no painful consequence.
I've been misty, but only a little,
and not when anyone saw

Turning the light on inside
has changed the outside color
from blue to black.
Crickets and a cool breeze
preside over nightfall.
Seems like wherever I am
is where I belong, for now.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 18, 2022

Travel, Boston

 

Night shortened by an eastbound flight,
sun comes out in Boston,
more time to wait

Little birds live in airports,
so it seems, and others hop around outside  -
strange habitat, overarching concrete
and some landscape trees

As for me, I've watched and smiled,
listened, slept, written, cried,
and, not having traveled in some years,
am doing fine

Who knows about this thing called life?
Who knows? Or time, for that matter  -
our purpose flows somewhere deeper
than the place these tokens mark,
still rich and powerful
to pull us swift along.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 17, 2022

Pool

 

The pool of regrets

is a deep one. You can be washed
in many colors of sorrow.
You can feel your whole past
roll over you like a wave,
pulling all linearity out of time

Even if you don't wallow,
don't steep yourself in story,
it will color your view. It's OK -
refracting light waves
bring depth and beauty to your days,
and to your character.
You will be prism and pool
to those who find you.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 15, 2022

No Fear

 

Contrary to popular lore
(I must remind myself)
fearlessness is not irresponsible

I am not required
to file dutifully
through the ugly predictions,
the "realistic" expectations
which have nothing to do,
ever or finally,
with the substance of what we are

It is not irresponsible
to be unimpressed, to be uncowed,
to know the fire within us
is far greater
than what might come to take us out,
that they which be with us
(the Spirit and the Life)
are more than anything that seeks
to them us in.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 14, 2022

You are loved

 

That you are loved
can't remain a distant fact,
something told to you by others
(who knows what their motivation?)

No, you wouldn't believe it
if it came from outside,
one of the many things people say
in efforts to direct you

This fact of your being loved
is something as deep within
as your own color, something as intimate
as tinge, as light,
something as fragrant
as your own essence

When you find it, you reflect it back
in gratitude, in wonder,
in the simple fact that this is one thing
that must be so.
Sine  qua non. There you are.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 13, 2022

Your Day

 

The day will lead you
to one and another of your mind's pursuits,
your body eager to serve,
nourished by curiosity and engagement

What you attend to
will grow lush - obstacles notwithstanding  -
you will rise like cresting waves to meet them,
the energy bearing you up
not self generated
but yours nonetheless
by virtue of your grand belonging
to the infinity of Life.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 12, 2022

Not what we think

 

People are not what you think they are.
You may be sure you've got it figured out  -
how someone ticks,
what forces forged them
into who you think they are

But all of that can change
as quickly as clouds disperse  -
none of it is tied to their true being
they can step forth transformed,
and they will know they haven't changed
though you may hardly recognize them

We people are not what we think we are.
We may be sure we're molded to some form
which then determines how we think and feel,
but when we're touched by love
we are transformed - not changed,
but suddenly more real.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 10, 2022

Songs

 

I go through the day
attended by many songs.
Today I have chosen
ones that remind me
of what I am learning to hold as true

The less mindful ones,
the ones invited by daily sounds,
and those embedded deep in memory,
come around, too

It's good to remember I have a choice,
if not for silence, then at least
for songs whose music and enlightened thought
can take me someplace  new.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 9, 2022

Power, and love, and a sound mind

 

As I begin to recognize my spirit,
see how it grows and moves,
distinguish it
from other things it seems to grow among

As I begin to see
Spirit as the only source
of who I am, begin to exercise it
as a sound mind

It's easier to see
how fully fraudulent is fear,
how broad the claims it makes on me,
all illegitimate

I claim my power
and I claim my love,
and they, in turn, provide protection,
I claim my mind as guided from above
and touch, in awe, a shimmering perfection.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 8, 2022

My mental home

 

In this home of my mind
I endeavor
to welcome anyone who comes to thought,
to see them, and to wash their feet,
give them a cozy place to rest
and lots of room to stretch

In this home of my mind
I endeavor
to keep out wayward cobwebs
of old presuppositions
and to challenge the impostors
before they make it to the door -
I won't let lies regarding me or you
clutter up the corners
or hold court

Fear and frustration
will find no lodging here.
Courage is welcome,
as is grace.
In this domain I find my power
and strive to use it
in every place.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 7, 2022

Near Sundown

 

The last glow of evening
marks high summer over,
though we will have more heat,
and the dry wind isn't done blowing
through the trees and grasses,
but the loop of temperature
is entering its long ellipse again  -
as soon as early evening,
open windows will cool the house

We feel the changes,
we feel the overarching calm,
and though there's so much we've yet to master,
in yet another mode (for they are infinite)
hope will find its way to rise.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 6, 2022

Taking Flight

 

Not so much
not having words
for things beyond these realms
as simply being so full
of every new perception
to not have space to say

What's left behind  -
so many shells, and yet
each one has all the traces
of the brilliance, each husk
a smooth inside, the hollow
showing something of what emerged
and took flight

And all that can be spoken of
must also show the essence
of that desire that powers every motion,
of that for which we each will sometime
leave everything to find.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 4, 2022

Stripping

 

These old habits I drop one by one,
unravel them string by string,
approaching, thus, a clearer way of seeing

Why not be comprised, after all,
of the light, the spark, the truth
of my core animation?
Why not release the constructs
of needing to accumulate
a fat enough accrual of accomplishment?

I practice stripping my thought
of all but the joyful wonder
of being here, given the gift of sight,
I practice receiving,
honoring life,
finding myself in that which I perceive.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 3, 2022

Living

 

Not a tilling of the soil,
not a toiling of the soul,
but intrepid steps
into the mystery of being,
bearing nothing but receptivity,
ready to give all, in return

This is what leads me forth in the morning,
this is what brings me home,
riches of Spirit right here to garner,
everything living a poem.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 1, 2022