Author Archives: Wendy

Take This In

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lake-washington-morning-november

Here is a secret:
Being is not something you can fail at.
This despite the very loud
opinions to the contrary
and their constant repetition,
throughout all your years

Here’s a truth to take you by surprise:
You didn’t make yourself. And what did make you,
what makes you still, in each moment
of your breathing, each eye-blink of awareness,
is no podunk show, no lazy shop, no third rate joint

The enormity of what you are
(broad as the stretch of your imagination)
bears witness to the size of your creator,
which, besides being too big to fail,
is also the only thing in the whole stupendous
here of consciousness

And it doesn’t let you fail. Not you,
not any of these others.
If you think you stand in opposition,
think again. You are given, after all,
a deep enough understanding
to take this in.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 23, 2016

Truth’s Battle

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barbed-wirerailroad

When faced with truth,
why does the lie
continue to assert itself?
Why does it cry
with added vehemence,
why does it escalate violence?

When faced with truth
the lie does what it always does —
proceeds to blithely mouth itself,
pretends that volume
will give it substance

Keep holding truth! The lie
has no power of its own.
After all, it isn’t true.
The lie can only gain ascendance
in the chamber of other lies

Once people taste the truth
they must believe it
so keep holding on
and truth will win.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 22, 2016

Remedy

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carkeek-sound-view

Beyond the whole charade of shame and fear
and the confusing counsel to atone,
the place of being where your name is clear
awaits the understanding that will bring you home

Above the clamor of the inner voices
that trace the stories, tally all the fault,
you’ve always sensed there might be other choices —
within the clutter, something to exalt

And so it’s only partially surprising
to find no need to settle all the scores,
not even need to stage a great uprising
to overthrow what held you down before.
Your remedy is simple but extreme —
you wake to find the whole thing was a dream.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 21, 2016

Music

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golden-gardens-morning-water

Like silk in wind,
like seaweed in water
my inside and outside
move as one,
carried in a current
which knows no separation
between the two

Caught up in the music,
as instrument, as dancer,
as transported listener —
the lift is the same,
as is the filling

I can never be
outside its presence:
I swim and breathe in music,
and music swims and breathes in me.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 20, 2016

The Beat

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bark-and-trees

Well, there are pockets of regret
in every cupboard, every drawer —
things that were neglected,
things that were forgotten,
things that could have been but never were

But there is a time for clearing,
and every un-cashed chance
can be redeemed.
Life, after all, doesn’t march
down a track of time,
leaving all that’s missed
hopelessly behind

The time of life
keeps on inviting us
to jump in, double dutch,
and if that seems too daunting,
it will give us another chance.
Life doesn’t let us forever miss the beat —
Life orchestrates us, and Life is complete.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 18, 2016

Kindness

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a-few-bright-leaves

Let the light of kindness
shine upon us all
now in the low time of the sun’s angle
when momentary gleams offer
bittersweet awareness —
a few bright leaves among the bare branches
lit up against the dark clouds

Let kindness be the warmth
upon the tangled coil
of hunching inward against the cold,
let it glow upon
the laughter stretched too thin
to counter tension

At the touch of kindness
we can uncurl,
stretch out the places that were cramped and pained,
open outward into the comfort
of seeing there’s a place for us again

And as we are kind,
we will feel the flow of golden,
spreading richly through our limbs,
suffusing skin,
promising sustenance
lasting through winter’s chill
bringing us supple
into spring’s sweet rays.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 17, 2016

Enlightenment

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haw

Even the inscrutable
can seem familiar —-
I can get used to the sounds of words
and not notice
I don’t know what they mean
or that, knowing the words,
I still don’t know the sense

Maybe I’ve patched some meaning on it,
an image that comes with the words,
maybe I read them thinking
of a conversation, or my afternoon

I have gone years that way
and missed, each time, the key dimension
that opens out the hidden laws,
the promised order

And if I find them,
suddenly I fly
with lift I didn’t know was there,
enlightened eyes,
and every word brings clarity
and secrets fall away like dreams —
in awe I trace the outlines
of reality.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 15, 2016

The Blessing

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morning-beach

You can’t walk away.
You can’t choose
not to be blessed

The blessing goes with you,
persistent as a taunt —
you may think you want to walk away
but you can’t

You can turn your back
on a thousand years,
on hundreds of your deaths,
you can focus in on countless framings
of the old story

You can wave your arms
and shut your eyes,
you can plug your ears and shout
(as you’ve been doing all this time)

But when you stop
you will feel the blessing
approaching as if from afar
like sunrise
where you realize
after a while
that the light’s been with you
all the time you were waiting for it
and you haven’t been shrouded
nor yet exempted:
the blessing has been here all along.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 14, 2016

A New Song

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sea-wall

We need a new music
and a new story —
This is not reality TV

This is the heart-gulp step
into the silent vestibule,
this is the waiting
for the summons of a chord tuning

This is the voice that rises
as if unbidden
from the depths of our longing
to reverberate,
to weave harmony,
to amplify the signal
that belongs to us and everyone

To sing this song
that hasn’t been imposed on us,
that rises from our fundamental frequency
and raises us
in grateful unity
as our collective voice
bounds out in light years
among the stars.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 13, 2016

Standing Watch

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magnuson-ducksunshrub

This standing watch
is not without its distractions
but I am starting to learn
not to go barking off after decoys,
not to be taken from the inside
by what calls itself indignation,
what calls itself wounds,
not to be undermined
by complacency, and not to be
thrown off course by blame

I will watch to see
that no lies about anyone
can obscure their precious essence,
and no caul of helplessness
can obstruct our needed action

I appeal to the Truth
that knows more than I do
about these things
and will flood out
all the obfuscation
with its light.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 12, 2016