Just before the turn

It’s not quite time

for the quiet click

that signals

the start up of a new cycle,

not quite where the whirrings

of the measuring machinery

propel the system on

past the pause at the top of the circle

into the subtle push

before momentum picks up

and sends the circle onward . . .

Not quite time,

but we can pause,

here as anywhere,

to let our breath catch up.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 31, 2013

Completion: A Witness Circle

Each of us in turn

opened out a little star point,

our circle’s roundness

expanding to encompass

all those bright bursts,

where our breath flowed together,

pulled along the raw emotion

and exposed softness,

drawing out the heart hum,

sucked into the poignancy 

of each truth

And the arms of our shared intention

held us all,

flexing their strength

in the enormity

of what they now contained,

in breathless awe

of what we could support.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 30, 2013

Year’s End, 2013

There will be no falling, this time,

into the end of the year,

no tumbling of untallied days,

no cache of uncounted hours

to not expect, but then to have

for languid wandering through paths

of memory . . .

These days are still measured,

still ordered — needed for the steady

mounting for the launch,

in rising hope,

into the next ascent.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 29, 2013

Settled

All of these whirlings —

frenzied opinions bouncing

against each other,

frazzled worries gnawing

at the air,

These will cease,

and everything will settle

in the calm continuity

of our care

No fear, for though life’s torrents

cast our prognoses into doubt

and though we can’t predict

how our projections will come out,

We know the rich weight

of all that’s real

will still be with us

when the dust clears.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 28, 2013

The Law of Home

We had been taught we had to buy our homes

in the currency of servitude,

our souls indentured for security,

our freedom traded to be warm and dry.

What liberation to discover

there’s a higher law,

to find we make our homes

from what we are.

We make our homes

from what we are:

Like coral, like clams,

we grow our shelter

from the soft sweetness of ourselves

and from our interface

with the vast and seething breathing

of currents rushing through us

We make our homes

in the power of our thought,

conceiving them as we conceive ourselves

inseparable from innate belonging.

We make our homes to hold ourselves together

and keep us where the flow of life

will constantly enliven us.

No way to be homeless,

no need to be fooled:

It isn’t commerce that protects us

but the law of home,

written in the timeless code

of water, waves, and stars.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 27, 2013

Wellspring

This world in which we’ve run,

silly and small and sad,

(recursive rounds of mindlessness

blinding us

in blaring of so many things

we never really cared about)

may be crumbling,

But it is also fading,

and the blaze of our love

is forging new connections —

networks for our light

to run along and multiply,

illumining the bedrock of our being,

the deep source

of our sweet, eternal spring.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 26, 2013

Peace

With the deft precision of stones

we slid beneath the frenzy,

silently, like falling through water

down to the stillness. A settling

of sands, their quiet lift and gradual

return. Each particle always

in its perfect place. We nestle 

where our essence sets us.

This peace will last.  We’ll always

be able to find it. It is as true

as our belonging. As our being

what we are. As our constant

return to our source. As its

ever present tender hold

on our lives.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 25, 2013