The View from Here

view from here
In the sun and wind
In the rain and sun,
Rainbow touched,
touched by inner truth

In the squares of sun and shadow
and windows framing vines and shingles,
In the quiet space between the action
we focus in

Could this tiny frame be a doorway?
Could it take in galaxies and light years?
Can we take off from here to fly infinity?
Could any starting point achieve the same?

In the rain-wet grass
and in a dog’s face
and in the happy glow
of well-contented cats
we witness grace

We will move forth from here
for here is where we are —
Our inner balance and our outward
will inform each other
forging the unity of hearts and stars.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 11, 2014

Night Farm

Sweet quietude, silence of the sky
A burbling fountain
sings to itself outside
Soft glow of lamps,
a place we can be warm,
a well-earned time of peace
upon the farm

Refrains of songs, the words effaced
sing low, beneath their memory
recalling something heartfelt,
some entrancing trace
of moments formative and seminal

And now the bitter tea has left its taste
with promises of sweeter dreams —
It’s time to dowse the lamp and take my place
amid the cushioned clouds of languid sleep.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 11, 2014

Today

meadow fence1

Today I walk
in the happiness that arises
from matter-of-fact acts,
the simple rhythm of daily rounds,
the deft precision
of casual mastery
of tasks performed without a thought
countless times across the years

Today I choose country tunes
to croon me through
this time of preparation
while the sun comes in the window
freshened from its morning wrapped in clouds
and may glint upon the unassuming moves
of boughs and beetles
and the chirping flit of squirrels and birds
and the quiet release of seeds
when they are ready
for their long, sleep-softened passage
into new life.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 9, 2014

Reclaim Instinct

cards1a

To reclaim instinct,
understanding certain laws
will help:
The law of sacred trust,
The law of wonder,
the law that everything that’s real
is holy
and will fill its perfect purpose
in the ever-evolving
fractally refining
all embracing and enfolding
infinitely intricate
web of life.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 8, 2014

photo of two cards from Mellissae Lucia’s Oracle of Initiation deck

Other Tongues

The fragments of several lost languages
trip over each other
presenting their partial translations
to my tongue
which tastes the sounds, comparing,
produces fractured phrases
that seem convincing
but don’t amount to much —

They are like ice floes
in a warming arctic sea
appearing formidable
but disconnected underneath
from contiguity —
I fail at fluency
when thoughts try
to follow their own lines

I return to my native tongue,
the other ones apparently
only good at talking about themselves.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 7, 2014

Raking Leaves by the School

leaves

Dear leaves,
I’ve come to gather you
I’m not concerned about the grass beneath,
I don’t need tidy strips of even green
It’s you I’m here for

I had hesitated
because I love how
when you fall
you carpet swaths of ground with brilliant red
I didn’t want to take the feast away from others
But I know the crew will come
with leaf blowers
and mulching mowers —
You’ll be gone anyway,
They won’t mind my intervention

So I rake you up
and then I gather you with my hands
admiring your prodigious flame
thanking you
for the earth gift
I’ll bring you to bestow
upon my garden.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 6, 2014

Tangle Me

tangle2

This loneliness is proof
that I can’t be allelopathic,
can’t live producing patterns
that keep others at bay

Let me be tangled with vines
Let violets grow around my feet,
Let many eager plants all grow together
and let me be one of them
fitting my growth
to share the sun with many.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 5, 2014

Warm Blooded

The music keeps going through me
and I still remember myself as
a blind, heat-seeking being
slithering always towards
soft connection,
taking it in

It is enough sometimes
to be this,
immersed in the richness
of the present pulse,
being fully filled
in the warm moment
where we rest settled
in the weight of each other.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 4, 2014

Hope

mint1

Hope is not dashed —
Though it be cut down,
all green sprigs gone,
its truth remains
persistent as mint
sending runners wide
throughout the underground of thought

In its inevitable time
it will surface
in strength collected
from the soft release
of everything that dies.
Vigorous in fragrant, purpled green
hope will rise.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 3, 2014

Whirlwinds

storms

I still carry all these whirlwinds
(anxieties of navigation, timing)
oblivious, it seems,
to their presence
and to their effects,
assuming what I hold inside my head
can be unseen by others, and unfelt

But when I look again
it’s clear what kind of turbulence
comes out from here
where I have failed
to seek the settled calm

Let my peace return
Let it be established
not by my efforts
but by my letting go
of thinking this supreme design
needs my control.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 2, 2014