After a long day

All I want to do

is close my eyes

and let the images

that wait around the edges

come rushing in,

shifting and babbling

in their strange gibberish

that will focus into some kind of sense

and tell their fleeting stories

when passing through the filters of my dreams.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 28, 2019

Reflecting on precious times

I collect these moments like stars.

I can hold them in my hand.

Though they may be short blips in time,

they are as infinite

as what they reveal

For sparkling grace is this exactly —

the evidence in one small moment

of one great Truth, 

big enough to guarantee

heart-waking beauty,

tender and wonderstruck alignment

in the unfoldment

of the perfect peace

of now.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 27, 2019

As often as you need it

You were here

when the morning stars sang together,

you were here

at the foundation of the earth

When you know yourself as essence,

as what steps out in wonder

at the gifts of the day,

you can see that years

have never changed you,

and all the twists of circumstance

will always fail to knot you up 

in some unfortunate condition

Your belovedness

is clear as light

and as immutable —

you don’t need to make yourself be anything —

you are here

And I will tell you this

every day, every hour,

as often as you need it,

and if I weren’t here

the day would still tell you the same thing.

The trees, the wind, the bright waves on the water

—they will tell you, and the birds will, too.

Listen, and you will hear.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 25, 2019

A need met

I looked for a way

to fill myself with stillness

like how the water birds

this early morning

bathed themselves in calm,

and I, watching them,

could breathe it in,

that centering

expansive as the whole pond

and all the sky 

and the burnished sun

that rose softly

I needed that later

when the day was muted

and I rode in heaviness

despite the songs

I sang to myself

along the road

It didn’t come right away

but since I asked

and since I waited

and since Life is kind,

by the end of my ride

it came through.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 23, 2019

Blessed are they that mourn …

I will not let thee go, except thou bless me

Before they sing, the little birds

expand to almost twice their size,

taking the morning in,

filling themselves up

with what will be their song

so it expresses

all the joy and glory that they feel

You will be like that,

so deeply filled with what has saved you

that comfort will pour forth like birdsong,

blessing everyone who hears.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 22, 2019

Mourning Song

I have a bag of tears

somewhere in my head,

I feel it jiggle with the bumps along the road,

maybe I’ll take it out

and drink some down,

water my memories

Oh my sweetest love,

I miss you in my future,

I miss your presence, too.

The water comes and takes away my footprints,

something like that sometime may take me, too

I found a feather

amidst my sobs along the sand,

so small and perfect —

I smoothed it with my hand,

and as I always do

I had to take it for a sign

I had to listen for your presence in my mind

“Didn’t I show you?” you said —

I answered, “yes, you did.”

“Then you will take to heart

that light-filled vision.

Your heaviness is like those clumps of snow

disappearing, dense because they’re melting.

“Take that feather

and learn to fly sometime,

get ready

to leave it all behind, 

not that you’re going anywhere,

just being redefined —

that’s how I’ll see you on the other side.”

©Wendy Mulhern

February 21, 2019

For the Defense

I will protest the innocence 

of every burdened soul,

however young or old,

who wakes with dread,

who meets the hours

in sinking sense of debt,

who thinks of years

in washes of regret

Those allegations

never pertained to you,

you children of the light —

you have been ever fueled

by something unindictable.

Your being is comprised

of an essence so radiant

it will shine you 

right out of all the frames

into unspotted day.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 20, 2019

The Nature of Now

This transformation 

is like leaving the land,

stepping into the sea,

swimming into the depths offered,

former concerns forgotten

Let me grasp it

just in this little moment —

that will be enough.

I can stand on this moment

and ride out to eternity,

since that is, of course,

the nature of now.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 19, 2019

Claws

I stepped outside of privilege to recognize

death drags its claws through every family

with no regard for neatly supping

at one edge

Indeed, there never is a smooth progression —

life sends us scrambling up and down the crags,

wandering the canyons,

sometimes scaling mountains,

sometimes finding dark reclusive caves

And look, we are not shredded —

the cohesion of our lives

just pulls us closer,

re-knits our fabric,

fills the former holes with light

Though we be touched by death,

we are not conquered,

and so we learn a little more of life.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 18, 2019

Practice

Taking this in —

the steadying of the mind,

patient release of contradicting thoughts,

the focused honing

of concentration

I will learn like this,

move forward in the joy

of mastering this one most present thing

while keeping my attention open

so success won’t crash me,

but will let me move on smoothly

to what’s next.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 17, 2019

Others, too

Others, too, have moments

of quiet beauty. Others, too,

feel the tingling lift,

Life revealing its most tender secrets,

Life compelling them

to give their gifts

Let me not think,

amid this shimmering unveiling,

that I must hurriedly proclaim it,

make it known,

for everyone is held in the unfailing 

light through which these wondrous views are shown.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 16, 2019

Lean and Release

Maybe this is exactly

what I need — these waves

kicked over the sea wall,

these rain drops, hard as sand

blown against my eyelids,

this headwind beating me back

This could be what I need,

sun appearing at different parts

of the sea and sky, the mildness

of the gale-tossed air, my pedals,

even in low gear, offering resistance

This, so I can remember

I’m never asked to do it alone,

I’m only asked to lean in

and release.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 15, 2019

As it continues

We have covered ground here,

through the longest night

and well into the year,

we have found healing,

sometimes tenuous

but slowly coming clear,

and though you’ve flown,

we still will walk this path together

The sun this morning

was almost match

for the gusting winds,

blue ruled the water and the sky,

we skirted puddles

on the familiar road to town,

hand in hand, you and I

So far we’ve come, beyond the judgment,

beyond the strife, beyond the words,

we think we see the curving of the earth,

and maybe on that circle

we’ll find our way back home

and taste the flavor of our native worth.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 14, 2019

Artifacts of Refuge

Every one of these structures

is a place of refuge, a thing

cobbled together against the void,

the glass-crushing nothingness

of rejection. For fear that we’d

implode and shatter, 

we have built these forms —

so many of them,

in such different modes

And if we knew there is no void,

no vacuum, we could walk free.

We wouldn’t be attached

to all those convoluted rules,

those strange behaviors

If we knew the Allness

covers all of us, 

we would be united.

And we would know we’re safe,

and be at peace.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 13, 2019

Right Where You Are

And as for you,

you right there where you are,

in that body

just as it is right now,

you are beloved

Not provisionally,

not in spite of anything,

but in the wholeness,

in the presence

of everything that’s you

Just as you stand,

just as the air nestles around you,

just as the light caresses

all your colors, all your form —

that’s how you are cherished —

not above or under any others

but deeply prized, 

essential to the whole.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 12, 2019

Now

There is therefore now

no condemnation,

no contamination,

no contempt, 

no fall, no exile, no complaint,

and no damnation

No one in the realm of Truth

has ever left it,

and there’s no other realm

where we could live —

we can’t condemn,

nor can we be condemned,

for we are loved —

our name is clear

as it has always been.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 11, 2019

If We Knew

And as for us, poor fumble people,

all we need is cuddles,

cuddle of the deepest sort,

that feeds the soul,

that soothes the heart

and makes us know

how dearly we are held

We all come crying, masked, of course,

in our bravado, the efforts we all mount

to prove that we amount to something,

that our presence counts

We ask for others

to give us what we need

but they, too, flounder,

flailing in the chasm of their lack

Ah, if we only knew,

in truth, for certain,

what’s already given,

we wouldn’t need to struggle and to sink —

we’d rest, serenely, in our present heaven.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 10, 2019

Of Water and Spirit

Each day we are born

of water and Spirit,

each day borne

on wings of present care

Today within us

brightness sparkles forth

like wind-chased ripples,

like new-learned chords.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 9, 2019

Plenitude

There is no bridge

from lack to bounty,

no accretion that won’t sink

into the endless, desperate pool of want,

and that is why we won’t go there

We’ll start out where we are,

with here, with presence,

we’ll let the tendrils of awareness

reach in deep

to find the fact

that we have always been supplied

with plenitude, in everything we need.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 7, 2019

Forward

In the art of

helping things forward,

there are tools better than strategy,

better than persuasion

I seek the water molecule quality

that flows instantly

to where the need is,

that sinks in to deep listening

and offers a mirror

to present purposes

so they shine forward

on their own.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 6, 2019

Resolved

Certainty may grow

like shadows as the sun sets,

dark on the water,

heavy as stone

What wasn’t clear before

may now seem always known,

solid conviction,

resolved to the bone.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 5, 2019

Practice before poetry

Fingers and faith

must do their work,

lay down their patterns,

build flexibility and strength

Words and music

will flow in later —

small trickles at first

will grow smoother, firmer

until the very instruments

are subsumed

in the eloquence of sound.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 4, 2019

I learned today

I learned today

that ice can look like sand

at least to me,

but that it won’t hold me up,

and winter water

up to the knee

is not that bad

And sometimes a surprise step

into the drink

can serve to reset everything,

redeeming a dragged down day,

making me, and those I walk with,

feel holy.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 3, 2019

Changes

The ice can go

as quickly as it came,

strong wind from the south

making waves, sending them

undulating under,

blowing shallow ripples over,

till it all washed ashore

to clink against the chunks of it

that still remained

I was surprised by the speed

that the spirited day 

could change everything, 

or at least this one thing

that seemed so solid,

holding up rocks

only an hour before.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 2, 2019

Acquittal

No sleuth was needed

to pick through your life

noting and condemning

ways you fall short —

misguided attentions,

crucial things neglected,

everything that needs to be corrected

Your life is clear,

innocent as dawn,

untouched by any tales

of what you have or haven’t done —

Pick up the cloth and shake it in the wind —

all that isn’t you will fall away,

and as for your bright presence,

it will stay.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 1, 2019