the end of time

as days spiral down

faster and faster

each week coming around

sooner than the last one

as years slip

and days blip

my focus shifts

towards the end of time

as one round of fireworks

becomes so like others

I cease to need to see them

parades can go without me

and new thrills

I’d rather will

to my children

than seek out for myself

my goals drift 

towards eternity

where things unfold kalaidescopic

not in time—in endless pattern

not in chains of cause/effect, of linked events

but life connecting all its web in present tense

I yearn towards when the frenzied march is done

the end of time in which we all are one.

©Wendy Mulhern

June 30, 2011

Temptation

The surf of sleep waits just behind my eyes

It hushes, rushes, and recedes

It drags, like shells,

my focus and resolve

It tugs them under, covers them

and smiles

It whispers at me as I move

from task to task, a little dazed

by water’s movement

crossways

to where I try to walk

It murmurs: it’s preparing

a big wave to bring me down with it

Succumb, it soothes, come down

to where the dreams can slosh against your side

and wash you, cuddle you, caress your hair

I’m thinking soon

I may surrender

. . . almost there . . . . 

©Wendy Mulhern
June 29, 2011

Bicycle Meditation

I ride in whirring balance gyroscopic

my bicycle and all my strength in tune

My thoughts, too, whirr along their tireless topic:

deep connection and my longing to commune

It hovers like a hunger, though it feeds me

with eager energy to power my feet

The hope to find and join the place that needs me

where what I need to give and what it needs will meet

My discipline is still to keep it real

no far-flung vision, fluffy, outsized dreams

This moment’s work, this smile, this evening’s meal

To speak the truth, be kind, work hard, redeem

each effort from the weight of drudgery

So will I fly, so realize what I must be.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 28, 2011

Another one for you

What’s needed here will not be said with words

though if I knew the magic words, I’d use them

And I don’t need to understand the whys

the rationale, the story - not that I’d refuse them

Just that somewhere deep beneath the story

a universal need peeks through, quite clear

To feel the arms that always reach out for you

the endless depth to which you are held dear

Though these are just my arms, I hope they show you

(as any person’s arms perhaps could do)

What joy it gives the Infinite to know you

How precious is your essence, and how true

No sentencing can stand, however tough

You walk in grace, and grace is good enough.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 27, 2011

Work in Progress

Today the tasks 

were taupe and black

The day was gray and green

My hobbled thought kept limping back

to what it all must mean

Let go, let go

It isn’t here

The things that cease to matter

though mounded high

will disappear

in so much empty clatter

Last night my sleep was sweet and rich

My dreams were entertaining

though when I woke

they all dispersed

without a trace remaining

Today some friends were tired and sad

in pain or in despair

I reached to them across the space

and grasped at empty air

I yearn, I yearn

to offer peace

Some day I’ll learn to do it

To open up that hidden door

and walk on with them

through it.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 24, 2011

This Is For You

Quick as color

spreads across the surface

of a water drop

instant infusion

strongest at the edges

May this touch spread across you

excite all your surfaces

so you know

as you ring like a temple gong

This pure sound sings you

Nothing stops this wave

spreading into the landscape

ringing floral bells

spilling out fragrance

calling up celebration

This is you

as everything recognizes

tunes in accord

and rejoices.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 23, 2011

Parental Fiat

Words still crash upon the surface

though my attention is beneath

and my intention is for peace

and I don’t want to make this process

harder than it needs to be

But I will not be moved

I must insist

The line you cross

I must resist

You can’t just toss

all of this

to the abyss . . . .

This will be my discipline: I’ll wait

be careful not to outline or anticipate

the thrusts and feints of some imagined game

Instead I’ll hold the calm

that stretches out beyond

the quarrel of the moment to the wider plain

where who we are

and who we want to be

are one

and all the stridency

is done.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 22, 2011