Author Archives: Wendy

Ripping the Veil

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If stars are pinpricks
in the sheet of night,
if everywhere there is a tear
reveals a burst of light,
if every glimpse of truth
calls forth a clearer sight,
let’s look again to see
what things are made of

Across the waves, across the sky,
in every blink between the views,
there is a place where we can try
to change the focus, find new clues

To rip the veil, to see beyond
the playbook written for our lives,
to where the wonder cracks the seams
and wells up in our hearts and minds,
and from our gait within the rhythmic beat
we have to stop

because this life is far more brilliant
than what we could describe.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 25, 2020

Citadel

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I’m not waiting
for something to happen
(nothing ever comes about that way)

I’m coming back instead
to guard my citadel
(which, before this, I didn’t even know I had)

A citadel that I can furnish
with warm lights
and soft corners to inhabit,
with knowledge of the truth imparting sacred peace

And when it’s set, and when it’s centered,
when it’s clear,
I can invite others in,
I can bring them in to share
this all transforming calm.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 23, 2020

Starting Point

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Every life has some deserts in it.
So I start with this — wind driven sand,
searing dry heat
and the sweeping of everything
till it’s bleached clean

I’ll start with this,
fighting my words back
to the starting point
through the cluttered
piles of mundanities
back to where the pure essence gleams

I start here in this desert
because of how clear
across the bones and rock
rings the voice of God.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 22, 2020

State of the Union

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I have no skills
to bring to the table

I have no table
to bring anything to

I didn’t learn
in all my years
to make connections
that could pull any strings

And yet I’m pulling
with any breath I can align,
with any thoughts that I can think,
to reinforce the patterns
I hope to see emerge

I’ll pray for justice,
I’ll pray to see integrity
rise up in people
who were self serving
up till now

I’ll pray we all will see each other
by our lights and not our flaws
and see a way for true direction
for our land.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 21, 2020

Darkroom

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You won’t find this answer
in the room of comparison —
it will expose the sensitive film,
and the image
that would rise up in the still darkness
of your own concentration
will be flooded out,
the alchemy aborted

You will find this answer
only as you learn
to close everything out
except the micro movements
of the present moment
as they unfold in timelessness

In that moment
(who can say how long it takes —
days? years? decades?)
you will see.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 20, 2020

Various Chasms

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The lady I stayed with
(long time ago)
had little notes to herself
on her dresser —
reminders to keep going,
to look again for the joy of life,
to hold herself
against the drift of sadness

This I took note of,
though I had no place to put it
and no way to even relate,
various chasms
(at that time)
rendering it impossible
for us to know each other

I might know more now,
be able and willing
to bridge the gap
into which fell
all referents of recognition,
and also the knowledge
which we didn’t mention but probably shared
that I was the same age
her dead son would have been.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 19, 2020

Asymmetries

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These asymmetries
must have their reasons,
a needed distinction
between upper and lower edge,
a way to account
for a difference in pressure, or drag

They must be balanced
by a corresponding weighting
on the other side —
the existence of one reveals
necessities of others

Nature doesn’t deal
in imprecision,
doesn’t throw any shape
carelessly about

Any distortion reveals the influence
of other forces,
the partnering in patterns
greater than oneself.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 18, 2020

Perception

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In this dimension
there are no lines, really,
only curves that move
as you approach them,
only planes that sport
the spreading shadow of their angle

So don’t think you need
to draw the line —
this understanding is really
about inhabiting the form,
glowing the light from the inside,
feeling the curve and fullness of it —
how that always makes it seem to shift
as the perspective moves.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 17, 2020

Third Day

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From my window
I keep watching the snow —
it’s falling fast now,
large flakes swirling
forcefully from the south,
waves of it rushing
to catch up with itself,
covering footprints
as if it could fall fast enough
to outrun the coming rains
which will wash it all away
swift as it came

(I went out for long enough
to get my face wet
catching snowflakes in my mouth and hair —
I felt like I owed it
a longer homage
but I was also drawn
to the hearth fire.)

©Wendy Mulhern
January 15, 2020

Snow Drift

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Day dawns slow and pretty
in the sifting, wistful snow —
sky dark, snow light,
air held in windless stasis

These days, our sense of purpose
can easily drift, though we walk
in the cold air and the snow crunch
and ground ourselves, as best we can,
among the winter trees

We will hold hands and remind each other
our work is not in things
we can tick off lists,
and our gain, from each day,
is somewhere deeper than here,
something we may see again sometime.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 14, 2020