Let the silence settle
through the clear, cold water,
let the ripples gleam in winter sun
There could be a long time
where nothing is said
while the sun sets early
and the moon is already high
There is a truth
which shows itself without words,
there is a knowing
that is like light patterns —
silent, but still expressive,
or lilting in voice when it sings.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 19, 2018
We rely on each other
and we let each other down
in small ways and in big ways
every day
We feel the crush of disappointment
but we keep on reaching out
because we think we have no choice.
Sometimes our efforts are rewarded,
if briefly
Our words and our intentions
go out like threads. They tangle,
they fall away. We try again
but often with the same results
We think we need each other
and we feel our need
is seldom satisfied.
We fall together unawakened
through the dream.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 17, 2018
Though I often see myself as a container,
I am not a container, nor yet
an essence contained
I try to see myself
as the response to a wish,
an answer to a summons,
that which is awakened when the dream ends
I try to feel how my being
rises to the touch of the moment,
thrilled consequence of Life’s desire to be
Thus uncontained, my presence serves the infinite,
collecting nothing but not empty —
free.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 16, 2018
Because the pitching waves
and all the raw winds
and the destruction, and the sharp shards
were merely shadows,
shapes projected on our forms
We had been frightened
thinking each dark image falling on us
was a wound, a defect, or a dread curse
that we must overcome
But then we saw the same pictures
on everyone, and started to suspect
none of these flaws
had been internal
We started to reflect
on all the light within
and we became uncowed
by flickering shadows
So we became serene —
we have no battle.
Our sight is clear, our day is clean,
and we are free.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 15, 2018
I felt my vessel
had become a sieve,
suddenly unable
to capture and retain
that which would slake my thirst
For though the day was not devoid of brightness,
I found no pool within,
in which to reflect —
just a dry concavity
in which to feel alone,
a place collecting shadows
and the sound of bones.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 13, 2018
Every human face,
every packed for travel,
masked to the public,
spilling secrets anyway
human face
has its own center,
its own world,
each with its maps and longings,
its paths and landmarks,
hopes and strategies
And no matter what stories
they tell themselves
and no matter what anyone thinks,
each world is turning
with an order and a harmony
we humans hardly notice,
though it hums through all our moments
and keeps us here, alive.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 11, 2018
This is not the end.
This is the gathering,
the quick forming of a circle
that pools light, exudes warm,
and sets us remembering
what we are here for anyway,
sets us thinking
this is so easy,
this is really so very simple,
this is so much what we’ve always been about —
why didn’t we come to it sooner?
©Wendy Mulhern
December 10, 2018
Awaiting the cleansing
I catch myself bracing
for the onslaught of rushing water,
or is it fire? the truth so huge
it will purge me of everything
I thought was my substance, but isn’t
As if whoever that is, who braces
and anticipates, had anything
to do with me. No doubt
it will be among the first things
swept away, and then I’ll notice
that I was always
one with my creator.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 9, 2018
It was a time of
birds and boats
and floating mountains
and, within the now established fact
of winter, a softening,
brought on by clouds
that blanketed the night
and now let sun across
the distant banks and peaks,
colors and coldness both muted,
a space for gentleness to rise
and be felt
by everything that shared this day.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 8, 2018
The music catches you.
If you think you’re falling
or if you think you want to fly
or if you’re missing the connection
of the embracing web
You can go out, open,
you can stretch your arms wide —
the music catches you
and bears you up.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 6, 2018