Reclamation

After the voice of scorn was banished

Other voices began to rise

tentative at first,

but gaining strength from each other

The voice of wonder

The voice of “of course!

You have a right to joy;

Of course goodness is the organizing principle!”

The voice of liberation

The voice of exaltation

The voice of a continual elation

Realizing every silenced hope

could claim its place

and start to sing again.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 7, 2012

The meaning of hope

For those of you who never found

in the box of proffered choices

anything that fed your soul

Who turned back sadly 

While others raced towards goals

for which you had no interest

For those of you who never thought it fair

to have to settle for the duties of the day

Who couldn’t bring yourselves to care

for all the regulations of the game

Though voices of authority intoned

“Grow up, assume your role, and play”

Take heart, for that same discontent

Reveals another world beyond the game

A place where all your heart’s desires are met

Where what you are receives its right acclaim

What you must give may not be found in stores

May not be priced and parceled, stamped and screened

But it is real, and when you bring it forth

It starts to map the world for which we dream

Each of your earnest hopes affirms the presence

Of your beloved, unarguable essence.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 6, 2012

Twilight, Green Lake

Down under the trees

We watched the slow darkening

of green leaves

against the blue of sky

viewed from below

while evening’s glow

settled on the lake

And we had no hurry

We had time to rest like stones

Releasing the day’s heat into the night

And we could speak in low tones

Close enough to hear each word

To feel the peaceful rise and fall of breathing

And the ease of shared feeling,

Understanding rising as the light receded.

Relishing the much needed

stretch of growth together

Like these trees that gain their inches

in the dark.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 5, 2012

Homing

The water is homing

Carving deltas in the sand

Delta for change

though this is timeless

Water homing

A grand joining

from every place where it had seeped

at high tide

Water flowing

in zigzag patterns of the moment

through the sand

Pooling in our footprints

Dissolving them, but halted

for a time

in the impressions

Water like multitudes, molecules

Each called alone

Moving together as one

Water like 

us claiming our freedom

through the simple act

of moving as we are called.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 4, 2012

Seattle Summer

There may not be a way to find a reason

why these delicious days are rationed —

Whether to preserve their fragile, fragrant freshness

or the eagerness with which our skin receives them

Or whether it’s designed to keep us guessing

Or ready us for some exquisite blessing

in some other realm.  No matter —

The brilliance of today

will leave a mark across the summer

Shine its golden rays

over many cloudy cold ones

Teach us to embrace it

and every potent sign

of imminent awakening,

each glimpse of the divine.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 3, 2012

Prayer Circle

In the cooling evening

In  the circle we had drawn

and sanctified by what we each had shared

In the space before the moonrise

As the sun departed softly

We united in our silent circle prayers

High on the hill, accompanied by kites

We whispered our desires,

We held them to the sky

And then together, when we all were ready

Sent them seven circle rounds and home

The common movement’s unity

The confluence of fervency

The power of our prayers

The comfort of community

Became a catalyst, I’m sure

(Beginning with each consciousness here present

Continuing with each one we each touch)

For something that, unfurled

Will now transform the world

In each of our perceptions and beyond.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 2, 2012

We are called

We are called to liberty

Called to serve that thing in us

that levitates

that lifts

that fills us with the power to leap

to fly

We are called to joy

and nothing else

has any voice nor sway

No tales of heavy burdens or their virtues

No tales of guilt or prices we must pay

No tales of lack of worth or ancient shame

Can stand the test of truth or win the day

We are wired for liberty

And only that

Can spark our motivation

Only the call of joy can make us rise

So proving it to be our true salvation.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 1, 2012