Venus Transit

They say a day on Venus

takes two-thirds of an earth year

and that she marks a graceful pentagram relation

as she and Earth revolve around the sun

They say tomorrow she will make a transit —

the second of a pair —

Then not again

for a hundred twenty-two more years

They’re pointing to this time with hope

that forces now will come aligned

An ancient balance be restored

the dawning of the integrated mind

And on this sleepy day

it’s nice to think that everything

will right itself without my help

or any conscious effort

That I could snooze right through the fray

and wake up coming home to where

the sanity I’ve longed so long for reigns

Which flies against the stern command

that if there’s to be change

I have to stand

and work, and tirelessly pursue

the truth that brings this fullness into view

But I imagine 

if there is a pull, I will be pulled

and in the pulling be compelled

to consciously bring forth my transformation:

The Venus transit may perform an awesome show

but if it makes a difference I’ll never know.

©Wendy Mulhern

June 4, 2012

I’m in

(Notes from the third seasonal five women gathering on Vashon)

We have inhabited

a place of waves

an ebb and flow of stories

diverse perspectives that we try to reconcile

the tossing circles constantly recurring

hope baubles bobbing on their glossy surface

They bob against the undertow of sadness

and the mind’s attempt

to close the loop, to claim

the promised satisfaction dearly longed for

We can choose to float there

or step free . . . 

. . . Winds wander

Waves slap along the shore

Clouds display themselves across the sky

I step now from the land of metaphor

into the day

where sun sweetens

and geese parade their young before our eyes

Warm sand and stones smell like seaweed

by my resting face

Bright cold water licks my resting feet

I lie here and consider

Where do I immerse myself?

How do I join in this grand wheeling of the sky?

How do I find grounding in this

aliveness so much greater than

my little “I”?

I’ll take all of it

Whatever is given

Whatever way I can be used

to heal the stories, serve the greater vision

I’m ready

I’ll take all immersions offered

I feel and smell the sun, the sand

the stones, the water

Then the waves come for me

and I’m in.

©Wendy Mulhern

June 3, 2012

Inner Lights

These lights shine independent

of our hooded fears,

our darting doubts

that cover them like wind-whipped cloaks

to make them seem to blink and waver

or our yearning plea that they be validated

as if to make them shine they must be seen

These lights we fight for,

strive, with all our rough-made tools

to protect

and strive, through strict regimes

to make more bright

Shine on their own.

Nothing we can do can stop their shining

Nothing we can do makes them appear

But still their beacon calls across the night

Their signal constant, radiant and clear.

©Wendy Mulhern

June 1, 2012

Ashes, Ashes

(regarding today's shootings in Seattle)

Reason unravels

Reasons unravel

Following the rules —

staying within the lines —

is shown to hold no more safety

Anyone can fall . . . 

When the perimeter permitted is too small

to let us range

And it grows tighter

narrowing our path until we pace in figure eights

And we are running them like caged cats

in frenzy, beating out our necessary rhythm

in a permission-starved place 

where there’s no room for us

There will be breakages

and the rules won’t keep us safe.

Ashes! Ashes!

So it will continue

till one by one

we withdraw consent

to any rules that hem in our compassion

and rationalization that results in isolation

and any, all partitions based on fear

We can’t be safe until we come together

in the place that holds us all,

that holds us tender

Refusing scorn, refusing condemnation.

(The only way to bring someone to justice

is to be just

to banish from within the urge to hate

No lashing out in anger can release us

But grief’s collective wail

experienced in union

may let us see each other,

bring us home.)

©Wendy Mulhern

May 30, 2012

An empty page

Perhaps it is a time for breathing in

Breathing in, taking in

Listening instead of saying

Having nothing to convey

Ingesting rather than creating

Letting rushing showers of stories

fall across my vision

Hearing all the sounds

and making no decision

Let the magic coalesce at other sources

Let the message be sent out

by other voices

This yawning blankness of my mind

may well be for the best

Every field, including mine

must have its time of rest.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 29, 2012

Witnessing Joy

I will be a witness for joy

However unsophisticated and ungainly 

it may seem,

however unrefined

I will witness joy

against the voices that deny it,

those who say

you can’t have joy unless you are naive;

your joy betrays

that you’re a little blind

But I will be a witness for joy

For if it’s present here

it’s also possible

in other places

I will claim the simple joy of company

And I will claim the simple joy of music

And I will claim the simple joy of walking free

barefoot in grass, and the infusion

of a little bit of sun into the day

And I will notice:

Joy is held secure in Spirit —

ever present substance,

cause of Life’s self-affirmation —

Every living thing can feel it, hear it

Life takes joy and rises up

unceasing in ebullient celebration.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 28, 2012

Sun Catchers

These moments catch joy

as bubbles catch air and light

In the confluence

of attention and intention

Of expectation and surprise

Of readiness to be delighted

and whatever light refractor

floats into our sphere of interaction:

A bright, chance meeting in a crowded festival,

A long-awaited reuniting of the clan,

A perfect day, and freedom to ride into it

open, ready to be wafted to adventure,

Or this: a tent of time —

Enough of it together

for each of us to open up a secret treasure

to relish as we share it with each other

These lights may now be kept

trapped in the amber of memory

Where they can serve as talisman

against the darkness of tomorrow’s doubts

Remind us, from our cloister,

How we can go out

like bubbles in the wind

and catch the light.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 27, 2012