Safety

Look at the arches, consider

all the micro-trusts,

the leaning into, 

at even the smallest scale,

that results in this entity,

this contiguity, this structure

in which we now take shelter

Is it not a miracle

that you know you’re safe here?

Is it not a thing to celebrate,

the way we both can trust

there is a place for us?

Indeed, I hardly understand

how these things happen, and why,

though I have an inkling

they are far more common

than our theories of their process

would support.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 11, 2017

Nothing is Lost

Today I have proof

that nothing is lost,

though the hounds of regret

may howl and whine,

though sorrow sinks like cold air

into the place where hope has been uprooted

The great Love that fills all space

will finally be felt embracing everything,

and every loss will prove to be

a place that fills with joy

and all misunderstandings

will be redeemed

Even the most unconscionable blindnesses

will be revealed — eyes will be opened,

remorse flowing like tides

till all is equalled

and everyone will get to go home

Nothing is lost — 

not chances, not years,

All will have their moment

to be the gift of love.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 10, 2017

Paths

There is a freedom in discovering

you’re on your own,

that most of life’s important tasks

you’ll face alone

There’s a relief in realizing

it’s not your job

to save anyone else —

their salvation, too, is their own

They, like you, are guided

on a singular arc

that can’t be analyzed

standing outside it,

they, like you, have all they need

to make the journey,

like you, they need to listen from inside

What a surprise, then,

the rush, the roar

(as hooves that pound together,

as wings that soar)

of finding we are moving

in the same beat,

thunderous in our unity,

burnished in our heat.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 9, 2017

Woman's Way

Four of these lines have been in my head for over 25 years, after I composed them in a bout of bad singing in the car, just having fun. This morning I decided to see if they could be fleshed out to a legitimate song.

Woman’s Way

(a song)

Time and tide wait for no man

but woman flows to fit them in the way she can,

gentle touch over the land

and things that live come eager to her steady hand

She’ll help them grow,

she’ll watch until she knows

the ways to softly, firmly nudge them

as they want to go,

she will provide,

she’ll be a guide,

unafraid of growing with them

she will match their stride

Breathing in, breathing out,

what is speed to the seeds as they sprout?

Each is met in its own time,

so they fulfill the rhythm and the moment’s rhyme

The seasons speak

and she is meek,

she’ll hear their music

all her days and in her sleep.

This is the dance

and this is how we live,

this is the way of woman

and what she will give.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 8, 2017

Bounty

I will not go hungering and begging

for what has always been mine,

for what I have

by virtue of my essence

I will not underestimate

the power of Life to meet my need

with what another needs to give.

I will be glad my need to give

is similarly met

This is my point of waking,

to be assiduous

but with no doubt behind it,

move forward generous

and free of fear,

cultivate humbleness

and a ready ear,

reap the bounty 

that’s always here.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 7, 2017

Structure

When the rigid walls have been abandoned,

we flounder a little,

seeking our structure

We will find it 

in the logic of our movement,

in the tug of our connections

as we spin

We’ll build its lattices

with every act of kindness

and the sinew of attention

and the ebb and flow

of where we need to be

We will stay free

of rules that are external to our living,

we will grow strong

through listening and giving.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 6, 2017

Real

The loop and curl

of hunger met,

the kiss of being needed,

the feeling in one’s body

of being beloved

and what it does

to the curve of one’s form

We live for these things.

which we find as we plant ourselves

face to the earth,

wet with the dew of heaven,

taking seven times, or as long as it takes

to enter the territory

where no words have been there yet,

where they must arise

out of the ground of experience,

long enough after the fact

to truly be real.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 5, 2017