Author Archives: Wendy

The Calculus of Love

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waves-at-magnuson

There are things about the calculus of love
which are meticulously hidden
from the common story

The equations of care and of giving
are set forth as a balance, with a tally
as if love should be judiciously bestowed
on those who prove their worthiness,
who earn it

But this arithmetic cannot account
for the infinity of life released by loving,
the boundless joy that courses through a lover
when love is simply wholly freely given

We’re made to think that if we love,
we’re owed something,
but in the calculus of love
we learn we’re not.
The lessons are not easy
but Love will tutor us,
if we show up in love each day and practice.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 5, 2016

For The Taking

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lake-at-magnuson-early

I see that actually
the light can’t be hid,
the gift can’t be co-opted.
The revolutionary nature of truth
can’t be bought out or bought off,
can’t be papered over
with worldly celebration

No matter how extensive
and prolonged the misdirection,
our compass, finally,
will guide us home
to where we see the gift
of our inherent liberation
has never been withheld,
and no one stops us
from standing up to claim it

And as we claim it, we will feel
incomparable joy of solidarity
and we will fill
with that revealing light
which makes us know certainly
why we are here.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 4, 2016

Note to my email readers: I would dearly love to hear your responses, but I don’t receive them when you hit “reply” to my email. (notice how it says “donotreply” in the address. That means the emails don’t get to me). If you click on the blue title of my poem, it will take you to my website. At the end of the poem is a place for you to reply. I’d really love to hear from you.

This Peace

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face-pitcher

I can bask in choral warmth
as day folds into darkness
and indoor lights glow brave,
I can retreat now
to overriding peace

I have not battled
at the front lines,
but revelations about the world’s ways
have shaken me perceptibly

In these breaths,
I seek to step outside the false peace
of privilege, and feel towards the peace
that must be shared by everyone,
a peace that only Spirit can define,
a peace that sees us all as free, divine.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 3, 2016

pitcher by Adrien Miller

Note to my email readers: I would dearly love to hear your responses, but I don’t receive them when you hit “reply” to my email. (notice how it says “donotreply” in the address. That means the emails don’t get to me). If you click on the blue title of my poem, it will take you to my website. At the end of the poem is a place for you to reply. I’d really love to hear from you.

The Long Traverse

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magnuson-poplars

Regardless of our pushing,
we can’t go any faster
than the flow of things,
the time it takes the old man
to eat supper, the time
before he’s ready
to go to bed,
the time it takes for thoughts
to fully form,
the time it takes to leave

These are things that may be known
but not by us —
We are required to fill our days
with everything we can —
what we stand for, what we value,
what will move us forward
though we know not where

Surely at some time
we’ll crest the hill
and see the land before us.
We just can’t say when.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 1, 2016

Note to my email readers: I would dearly love to hear your responses, but I don’t receive them when you hit “reply” to my email. (notice how it says “donotreply” in the address. That means the emails don’t get to me). If you click on the blue title of my poem, it will take you to my website. At the end of the poem is a place for you to reply. I’d really love to hear from you.

Claiming Freedom

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carkeek-sky-with-small-moon

Today, again, I claim my freedom.
I have to do it every day,
there are so many crafty voices
that try to whittle it away

Yesterday I claimed my freedom
to be a neighbor. To walk up to the doors
(and some of them felt ominous)
and knock, and introduce myself,
though I’ve lived here for years,
letting my silence overgrow like vines
around the house, binding me
in scarcely whispered fears

Today I claimed my freedom
to be unperturbed in traffic,
to be calm and watch the scene
like so many psychedelic windows
unfolding moving imagery,
and I was free to take it in
with no annoyance, no need
to tensely grip the wheel.
I let the day unreel
what it would reveal

Tomorrow, too, will have its opportunity
for me to further understand how I am free.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 30, 2016

Seeds

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maple-seeds

Consider how these maple seeds
have within them everything they need —
cloistered protection
and precise instructions
for when to sprout, how to become trees

Likewise never underestimate
the power of this now —
everything contained within
to realize dreams:
imagination, memory,
just right alignment
with time and timing,
protection and release,
everything to move in poignant harmony,
all you need
to become peace.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 29, 2016

Window

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late-november-2016

This is my quiet space,
this is my window
into the universe

This is where
what I can see
is only limited
by the size of my willingness
to receive. I can take in
myriad vistas, flying undulating planes
of microscopic order. I can see the worlds
for whom my being moves
in geologic time. I can feel
the grand repose
of the colossal slowness
of my motion

This is my place to wait for
the touch that lights me up,
that reckons me
in the scale of infinity,
that renders me relevant
in the love of all things.
This is the touch that loves me
and awakens my boundless love.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 28, 2016

Requested Prayer

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spanish-moss-needles

The indigenous nations
have asked for prayer —
it’s one thing I can do,
one thing they say
can really help

I’ve been steeped in stories,
wandering the internet,
my heart now ragged
from screaming with some stories
and raging against others

It has asked for a moment of silence.
It agrees that the only way
to get to truth, to peace,
is to sink down in prayer
and so I offer this:

Truth, be with us. You are
the fabric of our being
and you hold our wholeness
and you let no lie stand.
You deliver us from the ravages
of our oppressive culture

You speak to us from within,
you let us know
you are here to deliver us
from the whole centuries long
network of lies. You are here, Truth —
open all our eyes.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 27, 2016

A Missed Day

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late-november-maples

Late in the drizzly night
we walked past puddles
while nearly bare November trees
glowed slick in the streetlights

We talked of ascension,
of hopes and struggles,
of resolutions versus being present,
our boots familiar with the dark streets

It had been sunny earlier
but we missed that window,
brief as it was in these
end of year days

It was good, finally,
to rally against darkness
and the onset of rain
to drag ourselves from early sleep
to amble on our customary rounds,
to talk and find our solid common ground.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 26, 2016

Thankful

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suburban-fall-maples

I am thankful
for my love of music
and my love of color
and my love of friends and family
and my love of strangers

I’m thankful for my love
of wind and rain, of trees,
of wild waters, sun and skies,
of light and motion, and fluid patterns

I’m thankful for my love,
because all these things are wonderful
but if I didn’t love them,
I wouldn’t know.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 24, 2016