The Effect of Kindness

Since my body had been

soaked in kindness,

it had no voice to complain —

it wanted to stay there

in the memory and present fact

of kindness,

where it confessed

it was eager to learn,

eager to do anything I might ask

It was willing to abandon

any tales of injury or weakness

and just stay there in the aura

the kindness had bestowed

When it next moved

it was a different body

than the one I had walked in before.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 19, 2020

Walk in power

Walk in power

for your movement comes

from a force within,

a source that’s infinite

Just like song pours out of birds,

and last night, music flowed as sweetly

from all of those who chose to share,

like dance comes up from music

needing no rehearsal,

you step forth

Your frame does not create your gait,

it only follows —

the poise, the grace, the rhythm

are in Mind.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 8, 2019

Yoga

Silently, because they have been asked,

the members of my body straighten —

they stretch out from where they’ve been crunched,

find new alignment with each other.

They take up the work of support,

they learn to do their part

So I stand taller,

I find bend and balance,

I find length and strength,

and the air 

flows through me

fuller, deeper

I feel this shape

is more me

than I have been before,

which makes me wonder

what decisions

put us in our former shape

and what awakening

awaits us yet.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 17, 2017

Fire Body

My fire body

flickers quiet,

burns steady,

straight rising licks

of warmth and intention

softly rippling through the breath of time

I have not known this one for long

though it has surely been here,

powered at its focal point

by the spirit of being

Emerging now to meet the need,

teaching me to move

through these exigencies

calm and potent,

teaching me myself

in a way I hadn’t seen.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 31, 2017

Liberated

Though you may carry your shame

in your posture,

though you may exude

the helpless unhappiness

that shows you feel

your body has not been your friend,

though you feel bullied

by its insistence on exposing

your ungainly softness,

making you a target for rejection

Though you have also hidden

behind your flesh,

made it a fortress

behind which you hope

to be invisible,

You can’t hide your glorious light

You are a marvel —

your sensitivity, your fine desires,

your tender hopes, your latent

tendrils of affection

are intricate and precious,

and if the world isn’t worthy

of your gifts,

it still needs them

and will be profoundly liberated

as you set yourself free.

©Wendy Mulhern

July 4, 2015

Body of Movement

Consider my body

and how it moves —

the reach and balance points,

the arcs extended

through my spine, my limbs —

consider how it spins

and how it leans and stretches

There is no moment

when it is not made of motion.

Even at its most still,

the counterpoints of rise and fall,

of soft and taut

are what define it

It’s not a mass of matter

waiting to be activated.

It’s not comprised of elements

that might move.

It is the actual movement

as clearly defined by my thought

as the vortex form

is governed by its rippling imperative —

cohesion of the liquid

and the gravity that draws it

and the honored channels

through which it flows

My body is like that —

transparent, wave formed,

kinetic,

whirling through the dance

of present tense.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 11, 2015

photo by Edward Mulhern

Lyric Body

My lyric body dances on sound,

Skips along the logs at Richmond Beach,

Leans into the lift of wind,

Sings the tunes that rise up in response

This is the flow 

of joy-impelled intent

which moves to celebrate the balances

of all that breathes in concert with the day

and all the ways it touches

and is touched

This is not the mechanism

I was taught was me,

nor yet a chassis I inhabit —

This is the one that flies in dreams

and also here, perhaps,

in the rich euphoria

spanning all my arcs,

connecting me.

©Wendy Mulhern

November 20, 2014

Embodiment

In small steps

my body starts to learn

The only thing that holds it back

is fear

Though fear would say

it holds the path of safety

on which, if I walked far enough,

I would arrive,

In fact, that path will never

get me anywhere but dead

and leaving it

I find myself alive

My only body

is me, embodied,

the bold and present evidence

of Spirit’s being —

It is not shackled,

It does not yearn towards death

but bounds forth fresh,

deep joy receiving.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 23, 2014

photo by Heather Mulhern

Contact

Hold me and swing

Let us engage

the elemental forces,

Let us harness

the power of gravity

to catapult ourselves

(slingshot around a planet

and on till morning)

Lean in to me

Let us notice

the power of support

to make us feel strong and included,

to make us feel valued and needed

It’s no great virtue

to walk alone —

It doesn’t tap the half of us,

our grand capacity

to wield the magic of connection,

to launch each other upwards into flight.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 22, 2014

On Touch

Last Sunday I did a poetry presentation, with the help of some friends. This video is longer than fits the flitting attention span of social media browsing, but it develops an idea that I’m currently very excited about. I’ll post shorter segments as we are able to get them ready. I also look forward to sharing my friends’ presentations.


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Bone of my bones

The only thing

that can flow inside me

is love.

The only thing that quickens me

Oxygenates the deepest reaches

of my system

Wakes me up

and lets me move

is love.

The only substance of my bones,

their solid comfort, steady, strong support,

their unassuming service, their

good-natured density,

is love.

And love ignites the gratitude

that courses through me, leaps

along my limbs,

Curls into my inner places 

with their secret glow,

Lights me like a lantern, pours

illumination out

through my eyes, my skin, my tongue.

And love will ever lead me to my own,

The place that I may bless,

My heart, my home.

And love will guide my words, my steps, my days

In every breath of mine evincing praise.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 3, 2013

My bones

The silent structure of support

makes no bones about its role

Doesn’t speak

Doesn’t have opinions

but stands a steady presence

making room

for currents to course through

Holding up the arcs of strength

Allowing movement

And to feel it in my bones

means to be sure

Not based on whim or mood

or pretense or projection

But on the solid weight of being —

That in me which interacts with gravity —

Its density providing quiet dignity

Competent in service

Standing up

for me.

©Wendy Mulhern

October 21, 2012

True Reflection

These are not the signals

This is not the track on which you are fulfilled

Turn away from that mirror

Ask for the inner call

Seek your true reflection

in an ancient tree

or anything you can still find

of earth’s wildness

Pull up, from depths

the memories of times when you were sparked

When that deep surge of your aliveness

rumbled up like magma from your core

Feel the rivers of your inner landscape

rise to meet what you recall

Feel them roaring, thrumming, thundering

beneath your skin

In the glow that they engender

you will see yourself reflected

in the light you see responding

from other eyes

This is the true signal

This is how you know 

what you are,

This is your shape, your shine, your size.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 23, 2012

Song of the Eternal Body

Each of us is anciently wise

Each holds the source

of the essential sequences of being

Each integrally joined

to that one primal course

The pulse of life, its elemental meaning

Funny how the secret waits so silently —

day by day does nothing to assert itself —

And yet, as oracle, will tell us when we ask

the things we thought were far beyond our grasp

Ripples of mirth, spreading of connection

Bands of support, in joyful integration

The poise of totally assured perfection

is celebrated here in exaltation

And it sings:

We are right here

Where music flows within 

like breath, like blood

And light shoots through

like waves of impulse spreading

We are right here

We hold you timeless in the web of life

and everything comprising us is good.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 23, 2012

Touch Hunger

Now that I know about my own touch hunger

I see touch hunger everywhere I look

Faces longing to be stroked

Bodies leaning out toward one another

The boy whose agitated energy

moved him in an oscillating “8”

Just like my daughter moved

when she was small and needed to be held

We live in an emaciated state

Not knowing what we crave, how to relate

Our bodies stick-like, prickly, stiff

from starving for our basic daily touch

Caged off by fears, by norms, by talk of sin

We need to open gates, and so begin

to feed each other’s hunger

so we can

fill up our souls, and so be whole again.

©Wendy Mulhern

April 16, 2012

This body made of thought

In this body made of thought

Made of moving, intersecting vertices

Made of whorls of cross connecting vortexes

There is a place unutterably still

A furry animal may curl and rest

So soft, so trusting, so at home

While outside, body moves

As mistress of the winds

Interchanging energetic waves

This body made of thought is hard to size

It sinks into the earth, it kisses skies

It moves with and creates the winds that rise

It’s everything reflected in its eyes

While on the inside, concentrated quiet

A weightless place, where every forming impulse

floats

before its launch in integrated motion

and after it’s received back to its home

It is a new anatomy

What book has shown us this?

And yet we saw it

And we felt it

And we named it what it is

And now that we have named it

We’ll see it more and more

Dynamic body made of thought

And its deep, quiet, potent core.

 © Wendy Mulhern

March 4, 2012