Author Archives: Wendy

Reasoning

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fall oak2

After the convulsive flex of fear,
we come back, we take stock,
and we see
there is nothing we can stand on
except what we have always known,
nothing we can flee to
except the truth

If Life planned to destroy us,
it would have done so a long time ago.
If Life could destroy us
it wouldn’t exist
for it would have discarded
the love-cohesion
that holds things together.
It couldn’t make a universe
without being Love,
and it couldn’t be Love
without cherishing each of us.

What Love cherishes,
it can’t destroy,
so we are safe,
as is every being
that moves in the grand circles
that constitute everything.

This is the truth we stand on.
Fear couldn’t find it for us,
and fear can’t take it away.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 31, 2015

Heritage

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sky squiggles

On your shoulders,
no weight of generations,
on your head
no folly of past years,
no unredeemed misunderstanding,
harbored, confusedly,
by your parents, your grandparents,
theirs —

You are born of this day,
fresh as a swift cloud
after showers,
sailing through storm washed blue
with its answering catch of breath

You are born in this moment,
ever inheriting
the bright conception
that creates itself constantly,
building the whole timeless universe
in every inspiration,
embracing it all, right now,
embracing you.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 29, 2015

I Shall Be Clean

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sequoias

Well, I can’t purify myself
and I can’t improve my state of mind,
can’t add a cubit to my stature,
can’t fix myself, can’t fix another

But I can appeal
to the ageless order of being
that sings through winds,
that plays through rain,
that blows the scent of oceans
up majestic mountains,
that brings the scent of snow back down

I can appeal
to what twines together
the intricate lacings of life,
the waves of movement,
the harmony of breath

There is a knowing
before which my own concepts
are rendered silent.
Dip me in seven times
and I’ll be clean.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 28, 2015

Changed

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dusk oak

In the color, in the music,
in the soft light,
I couldn’t say how I was different

Something like a dark steady draft —
wind tunnel through me like a canyon
whistling along the crevices
indicating a deep passage way
cleared in a couple of hard nights,
something swept away by floods, by winds

Exposing geologic layers,
making space for more wind,
heavy, sweet with rain,
to sail through

All of this is held in the sacred darkness —
few people knew anything had changed me,
and even if they had the story of it,
it wouldn’t capture
the holy, windswept truth.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 27, 2015

Importunity

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importunate

I press myself down
importunate
into the hollow
of my desire,

Wet with storm,
so rendered pliable,
cleaving in to feel the contact
at every point
For this is how I reconnect myself
with my creator

This is how I know
everything I am to be,
this is how I give up
all the dividing space,
all the illusion of separation

I press myself deep
into my desire,
I let myself be wet,
I wait.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 26, 2015

Peace, Be Still

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Peace, be still

Don’t worry,
Your fears can’t trap you
in a maelstrom

The thoughts you wish would leave you,
would cease to haunt you,
cease to pace in anguished loops
along the echo chambers
of your mind —
they can’t hurt you

They can’t stop the light of Truth
from streaming in,
so clear, so gentle —
can’t stop its compassion
from finding you there,
just where you are,
from scooping you up in tender arms
and carrying you out, delivered —

The storms of thought
are nothing
before Love’s vast, commanding calm.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 25, 2015

Baby Steps

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rivulet

And if we must begin again,
let us take the care to do it right —
Let us take each breath with love,
let us delight
in the extraordinary quality,
the singularity
of this divine and precious entity

Let us lay a foundation
of reliable support,
let us be clear
how much we, too, are blessed
by this relationship

Let us let her own source
unfold her nature,
true as it’s always been,
fully empowered,
at every moment able
(even now)
to bring her blissful splendor
into light.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 24, 2015

Feeding

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Alpacas

When the mouth goes seeking,
the whole beast needs to come along —
the impulse of desire must bring
the ribs, the shaggy rump, the hocks

They all flow in one movement,
they summon grace,
they give it their attention,
they feel the call kicking them alive,
they carry out the shared intention

What the mouth finds
they all partake of —
in the feeding,
all the beast is blessed.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 23, 2015

Great Shall Be Their Peace

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Cherry hill tree

I will not teach anymore
and I won’t imagine teaching,
won’t package up my
thoughts and observations,
won’t make lessons

I have recognized the danger
of such practices —
more than my lack of leverage,
more than the difficulty
of moving things from the periphery,
is my lack of knowledge
of another’s center,
and the fact that I can’t diagnose
someone else’s lack

“They shall teach no more every man his neighbor
and every man his brother saying ‘know the Lord’
for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest,
saith the Lord”

“Thy children shall be taught of God
and great shall be their peace”

I will not try to teach —
Instead, I’ll listen,
I’ll strive to learn,
on each occasion,
what the infinite has already imparted
to each thirsting soul,
each waiting heart.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 21, 2015

Soft Light

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soft light

There is no place for fear
here where we have embraced everything,
where we have acknowledged
that no one lives outside
the great benevolence,
No one gets stranded
in pain and grief

Every tear-attended passage
is lit by the soft reflection
of the ever-tended love
that marks us holy,
the Love that is the author
of us all.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 20, 2015