Trying

 

My tears keep trying
to dissolve the contours
leading to the sad stories  -
deep and innocent desires
and how they're dashed
by nothing but the surge of seas
of crossed intentions, missed perceptions,
and the desperate reaching
for glinting lights
within the tips and furrows of the waves

My tears keep trying
to settle all this out,
not just for me, but for every one of us,
everyone whose story makes me cry.
We are all striving for the same thing -
we just don't know it -
my tears are trying
to make it clear.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 31, 2022

Citadel

 

It could be fall.
What could befall?
I will not allow
the course of my life
to be turned

And yet land falls beneath me,
a sinkhole, a swallowing,
the sudden downward shift  -
how to maintain footing?
And where can I land?

An image has been forming,
appearing, as out from fog,
solid, but only sometimes seen -
a citadel, a rock to stand on,
a place that will not shift,
that will stay with me,
whatever changes ripple through,
whatever seems to disappear

I will learn to feel it
under my feet,
I'll learn to find it,
and I'll stay here.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 29, 2022

Wait

Well, I'd rather tell of light that reaches through

than poignantly delineate depression
(sustain of all my strings
muted to a dull gray "thub")

A light that reaches, rather than piercing,
a lifting off of fog, frequent as dawn

And in the same way as I can't
make it light outside before the morning,
I can be patient now
and wait the coming day.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 28, 2022

Present time

 

(from the virtual biking philosophers' notebook)

What you remember
belongs to you. You can have
the saturation of a bright red crayon
and the sound it makes
when it leaves its waxy mark on the paper
on a hot day in Pasadena

You can have the bright cold
of blue green water,
salty and enlivening
at Menemsha

You are free to weave dreams
of all of these, or you can layer them
with the view out the window,
you can use them to craft possibilities
for future moments

You can transmute them as needed,
you can harvest and employ
their secret power,
you can enjoy them
as light-mixed colors
adding riches to your present time.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 27, 2022

Climbing

 

There is no magic elevator
to lift you from the pit -
you must climb out,
handhold by foothold

It's not enough that you have tried,
proven that you know
how to grasp the rocks -
every elevation must be gained

But there's a secret sustenance  -
you'll feel it as you climb -
your hands, your feet, your breath
will send the message

The life power of your movement
will fill you
with more of the same,
increasing steadily,
up the rough terrain.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 26, 2022

Secret

 

We forge this knowing
in the texture of a moment,
as winds and rains blow through
and pause

Everything we see contains the secret,
shouts it, really,
in its unspoken way

And we may ask and ask and ask,
and that is good,
for in the waiting
we find the silence,
and in the silence,
we hear the truth.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 25, 2022

Deeper

 

I seek solace in tears
but they are way below the surface,
an aquifer that needs to be replenished

I have stood against the opaque rock,
prayed that it become crystal,
yearned to see the light refracting through

And I don't know what messenger to send
down the coves, down the caves,
to reach the still point, bring things out right

So I'm called to a deeper surrender,
an ocean, perhaps, or something vaster,
a power so far stronger than words or reason
that can enclose us all and bring us home.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 24, 2022

Where is your sting?

 

You may count down the numbers,
take us out one by one,
you may flood or burn us
thousands at a time,
you may boast your power,
you may crow your victory,
but no way can you actually win

You say we're decimated,
but we have something you don't have,
and never can, something you can never take from us

You boast of deadness,
but that means nothing,
for you are dead, and what we have is life -
it's just a card trick
to seem to take our numbers,
for life is something you have never taken.
You may seem fearsome,
you may rage on and on,
but we will still be standing when you're gone.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 23, 2022

"And they shall no more teach"

 

Here in this opening place,
we serve music
and we serve truth,
and all that we have to say to each other
is the affirmation of presence,
of breath, of movement,
of rolling and unfolding,
of spirit and flight

For we won't teach each other, anymore,
saying "know what's true,"
for truth will spring out from our being,
each of us a revelation,
cause for all of us
to rejoice.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 22, 2022

Watershed

 

My thoughts spread
like the perception of watersheds,
they sink, gather, coalesce, and run,
and I know that too fast a flow
will pull away soil, though also
expose some ancient rocks,
carve an abiding way,
and I see
that any engineering
needs a light touch  -
humility, and much listening,
and honoring geology at hand
so all the plants
can give as they're designed to -
holding soil, or decompacting,
pioneering, and allowing
the slow sprout of trees
that may take centuries to mature ,
for which we now create
conditions to begin.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 21, 2022

A day with good work

 

The sunset clouds looked like angel wings to me,
though my camera couldn't see it -
I wouldn't mind if they delivered rain
(more than the two drops that fell on me in the garden)

They could be angelic bearers
of needed cleansing for the air,
and moisture for the soils,
and quenching for the fires -
I would be happy for that ...

Right now I'm happy for
a day with good work in it -
beginnings and direction,
enough labor to guess what it will take,
enough progress to make it seem possible.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 20, 2022

Haunts

 

I try not to go back too often
to haunt the niches where I used to dwell,
the places of my former circuits,
roles I held to give me meaning

They have a stickiness that grabs at my attention,
but there's nothing to them, really -
the Spirit that propels me
never needed names or titles,
nor could my essence stand without the Spirit

Leaving all those things behind
lets me get closer
to moving truly to my Spirit's mode.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 19, 2022

Courage of the plural

 

We will not speak of sparks,
since wildfires are so fearsome,
yet we find connection spreading,
often along unexpected lines,
and one or another thing
can be what calls us all together

A small all, perhaps, at first,
but enough to make a we,
and we are powerful,
however few we seem to be -
the courage of the plural
overcoming isolation  -
our first necessary taste
of being free.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 17, 2022

Burning clean

 

The maple burns clean.
We, too, can catch each other up
in fervency, can find the
eager smooth burn
that speaks of long lives
lived with whatever grace we can find
through the turns of time and season,
growing solid and weathered
under the sky.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 16, 2022

Still me

 

After a day of distracting myself,
it's a delicate process
to get back to the truth points
now folded under what I pulled up
spending way too long
with my old journals,
and the wordless hum of daily tasks,
but I will find them

This morning I woke up
luxuriously relaxed
from dreams of flying
and filling with sound

And I see that I was still me
back in those old journaled days
just as I was me
in those free flights.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 15, 2022

Cuddle

 

Today I remembered cuddling you

inside my fleece pullover

to get you warm -
it took a long time,
and it was sweet

But now I wish I'd known a sweeter cuddle -
the one that has no armor
to shield you from the world outside,
because there is no outside
to the Love that heals you,
that stays within and all around you always,
that knows you through and through
and is delighted,
that knows this love is yours
and always able
to warm whoever comes within your sphere.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 14, 2022

Restore

 

With humble tenderness of mending nets,
to hold the whole to patiently assess
its base integrity, 
and if there are some holes,
to ply the string and tie the knots
that will restore it -

Just so with all the patterns of my thought -
I seek to mend them, so that they can catch
shining perceptions,
bright glimpses of Soul,
in every life, in every sea we troll.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 12, 2022

Come now, and let us reason together

 

It may seem hard to daily, hourly,
take a stand for truth,
but if I didn't,
what would I be standing on?
What fluff of happenstance belief
would I expect to hold me up?

And it could be the hardest part
is shutting down the voice
that says it's hard,
for joy, in fact, is easier than worry,
and being true will hold me up
where self deception fails.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 11, 2022

No Worry

 You'll be happy to know

I've figured it out  -
it's not my job
to worry about you

As you often tried to tell me
but I was slow to hear,
worry about you
is none of my business

I'm sorry - it was insulting, now I see,
to worry about you, as if you didn't have
your own way, your own wings,
your own destiny to wield
with your own hands.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 10, 2022

Note to self - directionality

 

Look to your source  -
it shouldn't be that hard to remember:
What you are comes from there,
what you do comes from there

You are not made of what you've bounced off of,
what you collided with,
what you grew up under

Your thoughts and actions
aren't reactions
to what you see and hear
or what is done to you

Your source determines
all your quality, all your direction,
and all your flow.
Your actions can be free and clear,
your heart unsullied
and your life aglow.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 9, 2022

Dark hours

 

Feeling sorry for myself
is not a good plan,
especially when the day has held
so much beauty, and some accomplishment, too

Little one, no one holds you back
from being what you are,
no one takes your avenues away,
and five a.m. may be as dark as two,
but light is coming, very soon.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 7, 2022

Angelic Light

 

Foggy morning, cobwebs in my heart,
in day's dim dawn, my world felt pulled apart,
the threads were broken, all my prospects frayed,
my hope was shrouded and my colors grayed

Then came the message,
clear across the night -
you were made to shine angelic light -
whatever entropy has stultified your dreams
can just be dust, can seep out at the seams

You never were that construct,
stitched of story, stuffed with fear,
all this time, you have been holy,
all this time, your purpose clear

This is your color
and it will shine on through -
angelic light, the quality of you.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 6, 2022

Threads

 

Teach me what to give up
and what to hold on to -
these things get so tangled
in the day to day of interaction -
threads of care with threads of
false responsibility,
desire for healing
with efforts to instruct
and I just need
everything to come clear -
to throw it all away
and let You hold
the threads that count.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 5, 2022

Consent

 

Consent to joy -
don't ask it to prove itself  -
consent to it
and you will see it rise
like wisps of morning fog,
you'll see it
in a tree limb's gesture,
you'll feel it
like the sun across the hill,
bringing hope with it,
shedding light on purpose

Consent to joy -
it wants to shine in you,
it wants you,
all of you -
it wants you as you are.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 4, 2022

Enchantment

 

The entire world
and how I know it,
and how it knows me,
may be something completely other
than what I suppose,
but the ability to finally
get the air under my wings
and hold myself aloft in dreams
brings a state of relaxation
with enough renewal in it
to bring enchantment
to my vision of the day.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 3, 2022

Tree Talk

 

Yesterday I walked around
and spoke to our little trees  -
I told them of my vision of a canopy
where they would touch limbs
and be a happy welcome
to so many living things.
I told them of my gratitude that they were there
and my anticipation of their coming grandeur

Later, when I came outside again,
I smiled, remembering our conversation,
which was part of how I knew
communication had gone both ways.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 2, 2022