Author Archives: Wendy

In the Slow Evening Living Room

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dock-with-kayak

What part of my life
would I dwell in
if confined to the world of my memories?

(The old man loops on Providence,
his sisters and the people and streets
he used to know)

Would I choose to hang out in my childhood,
the summer games of hide and seek,
the chlorine-lung feeling from long days
in the swimming pool? Or the scattered
gems of joy throughout the stringent years of school?

Probably not in adolescence, despite the sparks
of spiritual enlightenment, and the strong feelings
too deep under the surface for me to fathom

And young adulthood, though it had its triumphs,
contained too many gaffes for me to want to re-inhabit,
though the growth, a little later,
was quite compelling

There was great joy in having children
and the fierce love that came with it,
but there was also anguish and constricting fears

Considering my rising tide of happiness,
I think I’d rather stay here
in these last five years.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 12, 2016

Ponder

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shore-at-magnuson

We are blessed here
with music and splashes and laughter
and the murmur of little waves
and the splendor of intermittent sun,
fresh breeze, white clouds

A good place to ponder
the infinite riches
of having nothing,
as earlier today,
in gratitude and tears,
I set down the little pile
I had scraped together to call my gift
and recognized
I have nothing to offer
but the everything we all share

Nothing to separate me
from the light each one of us is,
the light we all are.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 11, 2016

Beatitude

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oak-from-north-late-august-morning

I consider my hunger
to live close to my source,
to be stripped bare
of false dependencies,
let go of petty tethers
so I can radically cleave
to what will lift me
along the currents I have always craved

I know I need some height
to make the deep dive,
I need to jump off
to be borne up,
I need to know what to let go of
and what to hold to,
and trust that in my hunger,
I’ll be filled.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 10, 2016

Fall Again

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neighborhood-fall

And suddenly, it’s fall.
Through a rainy passage
it emerges, and now the leaves
that seemed evidence of drought stress
settle into grace,
the dry ones underfoot,
the red ones that started turning
with the dawn of August.

Prickles of cool air
brighten the sun.
The urgency of shorter days
starts to stir in my chest
along with the aching beauty of everything
in last resplendence
before heading home to rest.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 9, 2016

Hall of Mirrors

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pilings

None of these distorted images
are your fault. There is no regime
that you must now adopt
to fix your bulbous middle
or your stretched out face.
You can’t be changed
by walking through here —
these traits will not stay with you
when you step outside

Though you may find it
disorienting
to see so many of you,
on and on to greened infinity,
though in the multiplicity
you feel so damned alone,
don’t be alarmed,
for when you shut your eyes
you’ll feel the company of others,
everyone who’s ever felt this way,
everyone who has emerged unscathed.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 8, 2016

Grief

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thistle-fall

We all get pushed, sometime,
through the mill of grief.
See how it changes us.
See how all the things we thought
were so important
are just nothing. All the contests
to be the most whatever —
successful, or attractive,
cool, or buff, or blessed —
are rendered pointless

In grief we have fallen
right off the escalator.
We find ourselves here at the bottom
while the parade rolls on above,
and when we see each other here
there’s nothing left to do but love.

And after that, there’s no returning.
From now on, we’ll see each other different,
the unmistakeable mark of tears
brightening each other’s eyes.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 7, 2016

It’s Time

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Wendy running in dunes

This is the time
to learn to stand,
to let the lies
blow away like sand.
In the end they can’t bury
what is solid, what is true,
in the end they can’t destroy
the real you

There may be dunes,
there may be drifts —
you’ve seen how often
the scene shifts.
But what you are is stronger
than sand, than wind, than time,
and what you are will triumph
and what you are will shine

There has never been a limit to your being
and there’s never been a limit to your worth,
and there’s never been a failure of your goodness,
never been a weakness in your truth

This is the time
to learn to stand still,
time to surrender
your anxious will,
time to let the winds of time reveal
who you have always been.
It’s time to heal.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 6, 2016

Inner Light

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early morning, late August

Here is the inner shimmer
that glimmers for as long
as I can keep attention centered,
the concentrated glow of knowing
this is a power that will burn off
anything that doesn’t share its essence

(Nearly as a side effect,
I see the sordid stories,
almost comic in how unbelievable
they now appear. How could it be
that I accepted them
and let them hobble me
for such a long time?)

Here is the truth:
our worth is infinite —
it isn’t measured and it isn’t limited,
it isn’t earned and can’t diminish,
can’t be lost or stolen,
swindled or betrayed

Our worth establishes
the law of kindness —
we can’t see anyone as any less.
We must embrace them
in all the fervor
that now arises in the joy
of this eternal inner light.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 5, 2016

Need

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September grasslands

Look up —
Right here where you are,
exactly what you need
is at hand. Each moment is packed
with more richness
than you could have imagined,
each person equipped
with what will fill you
with the heart-full rush of sustenance

However barren the landscape may look,
however threadbare your prospects,
however empty you may feel your interactions are,
what you need is ever always here

Look again —
The power of your love
will open all the secrets,
and the bounty that is waiting for release
will tumble out for you in grateful eagerness
to be the priceless thing that meets your need.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 3, 2016

Kindness

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thistle

In her tongue
is the law of kindness.
It wakes up with her
as she emerges from dream,
sweet water releasing it from slumber

Kindness gathers her thoughts, her words,
makes them a welcome,
makes them a haven,
conveys a revelation
to all they touch,
floats them on the high
of feeling their own worth,
of feeling, maybe for the first time,
the way everyone should always feel:
celebrated, delighted in.

The law of kindness
works just like that.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 2, 2016