Author Archives: Wendy

Processes

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processes

Well, all this postulation,
all these square-edged pages,
cluttered thought,
have held me, for a time,
in a constricting maze

And I have found my breathing shallow
in the halted place
of waiting
while trying to push time,
regretting,
not able to make amends,
feeling the black ink of belittling stories
run towards my eyes

But all these things must fade
against the call of life,
grow weak against the moist soil,
disintegrate,
be swept away
by the bright deep breathing
of the water cycle,
of earth and sky,
and the clear imprint
of the living day.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 9, 2014

again and again and again

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riverdip2

I will dip me in to drink
from the unformed place
I will let myself melt
I will celebrate
approaching empty
in open-handed faith
that brings nothing to the moment
but the readiness
to see the springing up of life
to feel it shooting through me
in recognition
to be the wonder
I couldn’t have imagined
to be born
again and again and again
in the swirling elements
that ever know their own.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 8, 2014

Learning Myself

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learning myself

I will distill this moment,
put it by,
and others like it
till I understand

And I will move in joy like the wind,
Untrammeled by a predetermined form,
I will be in the place I need most,
the place I am most needed —

It will be
a susurrus of tender willow,
the balm of blossom scent,
a ripple’s laugh,
It will be
the nexus of nourishment
and the incubation place for things to come

I will be that sudden curl
around the chakras
that clasps the anchor
to what can’t be moved,
and so procures its counterweight,
unfettered freedom

In that day, though I won’t be defined
in any way I’ve ever known,
I’ll know myself most deeply
and be home.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 7, 2014

Germination

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germination

In this uncharted place,
Seeds are my teachers —
Some have given their lives
for my learning,
teaching, in their dying,
what they needed

As for me, what I owe
is rapt attention —
I can’t assume I know a single thing —
This humble openness
is my gift
in which a seed may sprout —
I must maintain it
free of arrogance,
free of crippling doubt

They are so small
to command
so much of my time!
I imagine each of them
a fruiting plant, a meal,
a harvest . . .

My understanding
is a tiny grain,
A well-soaked seed
ready to sprout —
So much it needs to grow
to be robust, a living system
thriving on its own,
that will let me nurture life
with what I know.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 6, 2014

No more answers

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no answers

Well, there may be answers
but they’re not pre-packaged,
not catalogued, not stored away
to be pulled out when mildly relevant,
slapped into self-congratulating use

The only answers
must rise integrally from the brew,
kambucha mothers to the moment’s process —
They are not for solving things
but for savoring
the slow, unlabored turn toward resolution,
the feeding and the growth
of what is formed when we’re together
when our seeking hunger
is answer to each other

We live here —
Not in the artifact
but in our living thought —
the new, the quick,
the nourishment
of what we each have brought.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 4, 2014

Interlude with Cherry Blossoms

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cherry blossoms1

Fallen blossoms coat the grass, the streets,
Petals float into my open window,
I am guided here
by something larger
than my own design,
So I will wait

Pale pink mixes with random raindrops,
Wind stirs up the mix and sets it down,
Pale green emerges on the trees
where pink has fallen,
In a little while, I guess,
I’ll head for home

This is a street with cars, with lawns, with houses,
Not many people though, this time of day,
The petals make their way
in silent offering,
life-gift to earth,
a blessing that will stay.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 3, 2014

Goodbye, Hello

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crag tree

Goodbye overflowing, easy joys,
Goodbye the high of bright connection,
Goodbye astonishment of comfort,
and the glow of freely shared affection

Hello craggy upward trail,
expanding vistas promised in the thinning air
Hello strong rush of solar plexus,
heart ascending into deeper care

Goodbye oblivion of needs,
Hello to standing up for what is fair,
Goodbye to pleasure on its own account,
Hello hard work and all its rich rewards

And if I persevere along this climb,
Perhaps at higher turns I’ll come around
to find those older joys have multiplied,
their blessings clear, their purpose
now more sound.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 2, 2014

Lenses

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lenses

Through some lenses
it’s easier
to see people’s blindness
than their lights —

Those are the lenses
affixed to us like blinders
to make us go a way
we haven’t chosen,
and wouldn’t want —
the way in which
before the joy (we’re told)
must come the suffering —
Suffering to pay the price,
suffering for us or them,
suffering to earn the prize
or wrest it from another.

Try these lenses:
They’re designed
to magnify the lights —
The light behind each effort,
each ungraceful try,
each stumble,
The light of love that longs
for one straight chance
to be seen true,
the light of love that,
when you see it,
will come through.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 1, 2014

Sinkhole

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sinkhole

There was a sinkhole
underneath my calm,
It took me down,
it let me sit in darkness
while the damp spot seeped outward,
It let me be suffused
with what would probably
condense as tears
if more collected

But I couldn’t stay there,
for there was simply
insufficient depth
to make it worth the effort
And the sun was shining
and there was more life
in forgetting the whole thing
and moving on.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 31, 2014

To the Core

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to the core

There is no easy path
There is no glib path
and when you go under
into the dark and twisted course
that brings you to the depths,
you go alone

No one can go through the fire for you
And no one, like you,
will be lit up by that singular glow
found only at the concentrated core
— heart of everything —

Your light is like none other,
like no one else’s.
It’s your integrity
that compels you
to take the dive,
It’s your integrity
that brings you out alive.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 30, 2014