Returning rain reminds us
nothing is static,
and nothing progresses in a straight line -
so many curves converge,
and this point, right now,
is the continuing apex of grace,
stillness through which seasons move
and strong arcs of support
are formed.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 31, 2023
These days, officious yellowjackets
throng to our every task -
hanging laundry, chopping wood,
installing siding
And they seem to want to know -
Where's the cutlet that I ordered?
Who's in charge here? And why
was I not told about these plans before?
Could be the season,
or my own myopia,
not speaking yellowjacket, not hearing
the urgent message they would relay
Or maybe, like New Yorkers,
and other eager noisy social beings,
they have a rhythm
that works just fine for them,
and who am I to question what they do?
©Wendy Mulhern
August 30, 2023
We wake up
to find we are born with
a love for everything
that can say "I am" -
with its sensing, with its moving,
with the patterns it reprises
in its living, in its growth
It's the individuality
of all these things,
and all these people,
that points to the infinity of Love,
big enough to intimately know
each one of us,
warm and bright enough
to fully care.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 29, 2023
And if, in a step, in a sync,
in a settling, things come together
where once they were distant
And with an easy tuning,
a chord suddenly rings sweet,
and with an easy leaning in,
we regain balance
Then we may know
that behind all these things,
the steady law of Life, of Love,
pulses constant - its rhythm
sings us ever home
in harmony and peace.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 28, 2023
Waiting as the cymbal's tremble
moves from crash to dissipation,
waiting in the space defined
by its detonation,
waiting to see where I'll find myself
once the sound has settled
I could go on, then, as if
my inner membranes had not arrested their normal breathing
as they reverberated.
I could make a big story about it,
a problem, a set of things
that need redress
Or I could let the silence become attuned,
let it deepen,
go with it to the primal order,
align with trees, and night, and stone,
and seek the sight of stars.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 26, 2023
We each took hold of a small piece,
and we began to rise, together -
no one of us could bear the weight,
but all of us, it seems, could manage
Then suddenly, we are propelled -
a lift we didn't generate
has taken hold.
What seemed so hard for us to bear
is bearing us, and we are flying
This is an ancient truth
that always has been here,
this is the lift that we have learned
by doing.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 25, 2023
Once again, it's obvious
I can't hold this up on my own,
can't hold the line against
the booming voice of doom
But that's alright,
for I don't have to.
You hold me up,
and everything pertaining to me.
I can wake to see
what you have prepared,
how you so comprehensively
hold us all.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 23, 2023
This seed I am to sow
I need to plant where your soil is deep,
in your honest and good heart
which anchors your intentions
and will defend against
any false impressions
or dispiritedness
Your honest and good heart
will keep the seed,
will feel it, tend it, feed it
with its fertile warmth,
and hold the tender net - water and air -
that lets your life grow strong
and bear much fruit.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 22, 2023
Mortality rattles along
like an old cart.
Wheels may fall off,
or a side, or the bottom
may fall through
And we are asked to think about
where we will take it
before it fails utterly -
if we will trundle on rough roads,
or seek out asphalt, or park ourselves
in some garage
But there are no choices here.
It's all the same. Mortality lacks
the spirit of what we are,
so it can never satisfy
or even be relevant
Day by day I turn away
from these questions.
Day by day I walk my feet
in steps of freedom.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 21, 2023
Evening comes. Red disk
sinks behind an invisible hill,
showing its trees' silhouettes.
Smoke sits between us and them,
flattening and fading the landscape
I seek refuge in humility,
so I can feel the lift
of the Mind that breathes all things,
the Life that lights awakening,
that leads to where we all forgive
and are forgiven,
and so relearn the way
to reestablish heaven.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 20, 2023
Beauty returns -
smoke dispersing overnight,
welcome coolness
blowing in from the north,
real clouds and real blue
supplanting yesterday's haze
And I feel fine,
as if I've been forgiven,
as well may be,
as promised
in proportion to my love.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 18, 2023
In this meeting,
the fountain which comprises me
thrills up. I find my shape
entirely within this flowing -
constant surge and free cascade
All of me voices my satisfaction
at being this outpouring gift,
letting the infinite be
what fills me continually.
All of my being rejoices
to be evidence
of its presence.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 16, 2023
What is true about this day -
smoke filled, a sullen oven,
suffocating yellows, wan sun
still punishing?
What is true? - the conflicts
and the inner raging? A sinking sense
of falling down in flame, face of futility,
large numbers of enumerated fears?
Or is it the intelligence I see standing
in the stands of trees surrounding our abode?
And every living thing, which,
with its being, affirms the present mindfulness? - And so remains alert,
and can't be swept up
in mindless conflagrations
In this awareness, I briefly glimpse
the basis of true fearlessness -
Love which is Mind
holding every mote in place,
intelligently placed
to form the priceless whole.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 14, 2023
Well, if I don't tell myself the truth,
who will? And yet this truth
is not the stuff of petty disappointments,
layers of them, self-hidden by my self-image,
the sense I should know better
than to feel this way.
No. This truth must embrace
stepping outside the borders of myself
to look around. Losing sight, thereby,
of any self-sense. Picking up, instead,
kind eyes, eagerly receiving
all of these most interesting beings,
offering acceptance, and coming back around
to be accepted,
in the easy way where none of us is judge.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 11, 2023
Your presence compels my steady attention.
I take a half step back from myself
to align with the sensing
of what you are,
this cause of me, this Principle,
that which my full being must express,
here for me with all its surging prospects
I notice the iridescence
at the name of you, the name of me,
the place where what I am
is wholly redefined by you,
who, after all, defined me in the first place.
I need to learn to keep this promise,
to keep on knowing you,
knowing myself, this way.
I need to stay with you
and know you with me, too.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 10, 2023
Little tree,
I thought I came to see you better
when I glimpsed the sprite within,
bright energy that spreads out
in your growing roots and limbs,
which then contracts in winter -
sentient strategist,
choosing your way to grow
But then I got an even clearer view -
how you are emanation
of the one intelligence that thinks us all.
Your sentience
is no more separate than mine,
your joy as much the thrill of life's ride
as mine is.
The rush of being so precisely what you are,
as much a gift as mine -
proof of our common Principle,
our parentage the same.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 9, 2023
The picture that I drew
didn't look like him,
and yet it somehow captured
something of his voice while reading,
something of humanity
in deeper tones than casual good will
She drew my foot -
I didn't see her work
but my foot felt it -
all its surfaces in high alert
We took turns reading
while being drawn,
ideas and images joined the room,
different people picked them up
and held them close
Afterwards I found my affection
throwing a fond net
to draw everyone in -
these artists, their experiences,
points of view, ideals,
and the mutual respect
that holds us
bright and safe
in this salon.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 8 2023
Much can be built on this,
a smile, a look of adoration,
holding of hands, a cuddle
Indeed, all substance
can be contained here -
so much value poured
into each moment of connection
We may make grand plans
for the tiniest sip of it,
while simple acceptance
is enough.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 6 2023
This is my permission,
this is the open door,
this is the touch of welcome -
hand touch, eye touch
We step beyond the steps,
beyond technique, beyond the thinking -
we toss our touch like pups,
we play like babies
Impulse shadows impulse,
roll follows roll,
one secret link allows us all to be connected,
hand to hand, foot to foot,
lean to lean -
we are each other's rest, also incitement
lift to lift, spin to spin, flow to flow,
contact leads us
to our common Soul.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 4, 2023
A place you might choose
to be by yourself,
a place of quiet, and of soaring
feasts for the eyes,
a place you might be still
until you feel
the source streams that connect you -
how their energy
holds you up straight,
gives you the power to move
You shift into
deeper awareness of their constancy,
how you can move now
strongly and with certainty
No step alone
but fully in the flowing
of this dynamic life
which is your being,
and why you're here.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 3, 2023
The words are all here,
the ones that make clear
what we are, what we see,
what we know
The truth is right here,
it ever leads us
to drop assumptions,
see things new
I paint the word, the truth,
on what I see -
the land becomes my illustration -
its wide upsweep, the trees atop it -
I rest my eyes here
and feel at peace.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 2, 2023
As people remember world shaking events, and ask each other "where were you at the time?"
so they are saying, one to another,
"what was it like for you?"
in the dawning of this, the Jubilee
But no one has loudspeakers, gathering crowds
for orations and punditry here - instead
it is like the quiet chime
of a tuning fork, and all the strings,
(one within each of us)
clear in their closeness, majestic
in their joining,
vibrate their accord
and the following harmonies,
on and on, the diapason
ringing into the stillness
of bright fresh morning.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 1, 2023
