Author Archives: Wendy

The Allness

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Allness

There is no word
for the vastness of this Love.
It encompasses
so many oceans of tears,
it melts
every shard of broken, wounded fears,
It sweeps up everything
whose individual outcome
seemed to matter so much,
it holds them softly,
makes each a gem,
a light-refracting prism
of more brilliance
than they knew to hope for,
Sets all of us
on our sure and glorious course,
smoothes us together,
releases us
into the bright waterfall
where we sing our days,
still held, still safe,
still wrapped in rapture,
whole.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 7, 2015

To Heather, Again

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Heather in Marcola2

My sweet family-maker,
you bring us together once again.
Deeper than faith, this essence of you
makes us rise in the living of love

The demand of this purpose
shines through each hardened thought,
each tight-lodged obstacle,
clears away everything but the true light,
our calling, our unique blessing,
the role we play in raising up each other,
our certainty
of why we are here.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 6, 2015

Harvest

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bobbing grasses

Wind gently bobs the seed heads
in the sheen of golden afternoon,
breathing through each strand
the gentle separation —
what has always been
from what has seemed to be

Everything has always grown in this love —
nothing has been condemned,
nothing has been sullied,
The sweet purposes come to fruition
and are gathered safely,
ready to bless through the winter,
ready to bloom in the spring.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 4, 2015

Intermission

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Heather and Edward2

There is a pause in the story.
In the brighter lights, the moving
and talking in between,
there may be speculation
of next plot twists, of characters,
performances

We will go back in,
we will go down under
to be swept along by the spell
but for now
we will stretch our legs
and take in the crisp fall air
and remember
that whatever happens in the story,
we’ll come out here.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 3, 2015

The Earth Sings

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Oregon Coast - gold beach

The earth sings under the city,
patterns passed through rock and sand,
in slow waves moving,
lore stored in mountains,
riffs originating in the craggy pools
along the shore

All this is known, all this is felt,
nothing made in the last two hundred years
can mar the message —
It goes around the deep holes
we’ve dug in the ground,
it moves beneath the places we regraded

It makes no judgment about these,
for they are minor —
transient as shadows
moving across a day.
The earth sings
her long song
among the stars.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 1, 2015

Your Passage

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Your passage

Though it seems amazing,
even to me,
I am not afraid.

Though you face this void
and I can’t be there,
though I can’t take your steps for you,
I am not afraid.

I know the riches you’ll reap
from this passage
are without compare,
and are for you alone —
You will attain them,
you’ll bring them home

Then we will celebrate,
for you will share this with us all —
We’ll be elated,
and you’ll be free and whole.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 30, 2015

Confidence

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vine maples

I’m really good at
holding your hand
and keeping up —
skip-step in perfect trust

I like it, too, when you swoop me
high through the air,
our laughter mingling
under the bright sky,
I’m good at
filling up with joy

There have been names
given to me, and to my family,
names establishing our strengths
and our shortcomings,
generations of stories,
many never told, about them

But today I don’t want any name but yours,
don’t want histories, don’t want prognostications —
Today I’ll hold your hand and take your name:
I Am.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 29, 2015

Mooning

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morning window

A handful of families
had come to see the blood moon,
standing around outside their cars
(like us)(children hopping around
and talking loudly)
And there it hovered
just above the trees,
just around its maximum shadow —
a smudge, a smile, a whisper

But every day has something singular —
a dance of clouds, a curve of leaves —
and every night holds out the opportunity
for moon, for stars, whatever brightness
the city’s glow may let come through.
Many people raved over this one
on the internet.
We got back in our car
and drove home.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 28, 2015

Faith

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faith2

No one else does it for you.
That’s OK —
This holy work
is what you’re made to do.
The you essence,
so pure in your mustard-seed core,
must draw in the life water
that makes it swell,
must split, and multiply
and open out
so bringing forth
everything you are

There is no turning back,
there is no giving up —
once started, your unfoldment
must continue
till you, too, bring forth precious seed,
spreading your blessing
wide across the land.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 27, 2015

Storymongers

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richmond beach small waves

The incident is immediately
thronged by storymongers,
elbowing each other for your time

Some offer blame,
some offer quests,
some offer juicy roles —
the martyr, the oppressed

Any one will take you
down a convoluted path,
offering light
just around the next corner

Some may offer softer rides,
some may promise more intense life lessons,
Each of them will swear
they are the only way,
None of them, however, will deliver

The one thing that can give you what you need
gives it quite clear — apparent from the start —
the cleansing waves of light across your brow,
the steady flow of truth into your heart

Stay open, and resist the stories,
urgent and compelling though they seem —
Hold out instead for comprehensive vision
and rise, thereby awakened from the dream.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 26, 2015