Ontology

Actually,

There was never any question

of whether you would be loved,

Of whether everything you touch —

the air, the land, the sea, the living —

would move in joy to meet your presence

in every moment

There never was a question

whether you would bless each moment

by simply being,

For you were not created

separate from your essence

And you can’t exist

separate from your love.

©Wendy Mulhern

April 2, 2013

Things come together

Things come together

Sometimes it only takes

a few extra hands

to wrestle the springy withes

into place, to get them to

the latching interlocking

where suddenly the boughs

support each other and become

a basket, or a shelter

Sometimes it takes

holding a gaze long enough

that there can be no doubt:

This smile is meant for you

This welcome

recognizes you

Yes, you

with joy

for what you are

Things come together

Efforts of days

Sproutings of far-flung hopes

unfurling daily:

The fruits of your sweet intentions

nourish your soul.

©Wendy Mulhern

April 1, 2013

In gratitude

Who can calculate

the worth of these moments

of coming part way out of sleep,

turning over, and returning —

not fully —

just enough to touch base

with the sinuous, lusty reality

of being here, now

in this body?

With the certain vitality

of plants in spring

reaching for growth,

With the confidence of currents

of being one

with the flow of life.

By morning

they have woven

a springy web

to hold me

in the brightness of the day,

to show me

which way to turn my leaves

to drink the sun.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 31, 2013

Solitude

I can be like solitude

if that is what you need

I can walk beside you

And our breath can sink

as deep as it needs to 

into the roots of being

And there can be time

for the whole silence to rise up

as far as it needs to

to meet the embrace of the day

And for each wind-touched frond

to offer

and accept

the invitation to dance.

There is enough space

for me in you,

and for you in me,

that we can walk

in this shared solitude

however far the journey leads our feet.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 30, 2013

Tricks of the Light

It seems we are

so refracted from ourselves

That we don’t recognize these lights

as having anything to do with us,

So attracted to what seems

so out of reach

That we can’t trace

the inner spark from which they radiate.

These tricks with mirrors

make us feel alone

Closed off by glass

Confused by all the faces 

that gaze back at us,

looking all the same —

Faces that wear all our fears, projected,

All asking something of us

that we can’t quite name

But all these lights are ours

And they reflect our center

And all these lights are us:

Through our own core

we enter

the place where we can soothe

all these eyes

Allay these doubts and fears

And let these facets

magnify the One.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 29, 2013

Natural processes

The organism moves to heal itself

to fill in gaps

And to make whole

its pattern of movement

And when it is restricted

it will move against those bonds

repeatedly, inexorably

Directing all its energies

to crash against whatever chains it

or hems it in

It needs the wholeness of its movement

Just as it needs the wholeness of its body

Needs to be free

to fill the sweeping arcs

for which it is designed

It will break through

Or it will find a way

to move beneath the barrier

And there

Soft and persistent and unmoldable as water

It will wear away the walls

until they fall.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 28, 2013

Going Under

I close my eyes and watch the scenes that rise

My mind makes stories

for the sounds it hears —

A not-too-terrible retreat

from the bizarre intrusion —

Two heads intently staring down at me

Two pairs of hands with instruments employed

Where they have safely cordoned off

the messy natural functions of my mouth

My tongue sits under rubber,

too numb to do much.

Best to go under —

To watch dancers

And parallax of buildings’ walls

as I approach them

And flowing swirls of river water

Best to relax

into the yes I’m learning to lean in to.

Wake me up when it’s over.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 27, 2013