We will claim our purpose,
we will walk in it,
we will be as one with it
as it gives us power
and we propel it forward
We will be inseparable,
for, in fact, how could it be otherwise?
How could we be here
without our calling,
and how could our calling
exist without us?
©Wendy Mulhern
March 31, 2018
Let me wrap myself
in the arms of the city,
let me hold its four sides close,
let it determine everything around me,
let us rise again within, in hope
No one needs to slide off the roof,
no one need be ground up in the cogs,
these things have never held a corner here,
they can’t pull any of us under
Let this light keep radiating outward,
let it light us inwardly, besides,
and chime across the afternoon
the truth that will uplift us,
and bless us soundly, here where we abide.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 30, 2018
Open all the doors,
the cupboards, too,
and let the light flood in
And if there is clutter,
I will get rid of it,
cobwebs, I’ll wipe them away
Let there be no place in my mind
anymore, for anything that doesn’t
magnify the light, no place
for excuses, for cause/effect fables,
for anything that’s unclean,
anything that’s not washed by the light.
Let all the contents here be blessed
so I can be a temple of the Most High.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 28, 2018
In this time of shadows,
how shall we measure progress?
the competing accounts
of cause and effect
point to different courses,
different outcomes. And the lack
of referents obscures the sense
of if we’re even moving
and whether winds are stronger
or the currents
So we do what we do
in this moment, what seems right,
and we wait, without being able
to say what we’re waiting for,
only knowing
that when we know, we’ll know.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 27, 2018
I’m walking through the city park,
my face full of sun —
My mind dips back suddenly
to another such time,
long ago,
when I was craving innocence,
not knowing then
what I know now,
that it is not a property of youth
or of maturity either, for that matter
It is that which is never effaced
by the surface of things,
that which we remain
to the core
through all the changes
that pass through us,
that which I can bask in,
then as now,
that which centers me
in ever present home.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 26, 2018
Follow the path of innocence
down to where it is sweetest —
honey-light pure, bright as laughter.
We can use this essence
for many things, I think —
we can use it to hold things together,
we can use it to heal ourselves.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 25, 2018
Every little one
gets to be comforted,
however muddy
they may have become,
however muddled,
however wrong-headed
they may have been
in their self justified crusades —
every one of them
gets to come home
In this new regime
there is no contest,
in this understanding,
nothing less than the absolute worth
of each of them,
the hush inducing glory
of each tiny one, and each great one, too,
set holy in the rightness
of encircling Love.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 23, 2018
Every one of them
has an invitation,
every one of them
has a key,
every one of them can enter
the upper chamber, the light-filled room
whose ceiling is heaven,
whose glow will bathe them,
and everyone they bring with them,
in healing light. They are not alone here
though they came alone. In their solitude
their light lifts the whole atmosphere
and all of us breathe freer.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 22, 2018
There is precedent for pleading
so I’m pleading now,
though I know I don’t even
own the voice I plead with,
though I know Your truth
informs my every thought
There is precedent for pleading
so I’m pleading now —
Lord, there are so many of us
who will be lifted by this light,
so much hope conferred
in this simple proof.
Show me the way.
Cause me to understand.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 21, 2018
The sun, in its soft patina,
is almost balmy, deflating the last
dirty pockets of snow.
We have shored up the larder, ready
for yet another snow dump,
another Nor’easter
It may be equinox
but these things are not divided equally.
As always, we ride along close to the ground,
feeling every bump of the season,
not seeing the longer view,
not really minding, either.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 20, 2018