Author Archives: Wendy

Myrella’s Interpretation

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In this video, from my March 9 poetry event, Myrella moves to my poem Taproot, Read by Love Rising, to the song Chilled Cream by Blank and Jones.

Taproot

The roots of your connection
go down deep —
Like comfrey, they reach into the subsoil,
pulling up the minerals
that rise from ancient bedrock.
Whatever artifice has been applied,
whatever degradation of the soil,
you are equipped
to tap the primal nutrient
and bring it back
into the cycle of life.
Don’t ever think that you can be defeated —
Like comfrey, if they chop you,
you will come back stronger,
by virtue of your simple insistence
on the right of life to thrive,
and of each living thing to manifest
just what it is —
not made for any purpose other than its own
and its essential link to everything.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 4, 2013

Prospectus

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prospectus

The infinite canvas awaits!
The palette of thought,
the waves of color and connection,
the currents of harmony —

All we have desired
more deeply than we dared to dream
is ours
to create
in this field of time and space
with this impulse of Spirit

So we are designed
to bring all possibility
into being,
to know the fullness
of this moment by moment
dance
of all art,
of all music,
of all life.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 16, 2014

Saturday Late Afternoon

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here now-001

I like this curl on curl
of you and me together
I like this curve at your neck
and how my face fits into it
I like your warmth
and the warmth I feel
as I hold you in my heart

We don’t need words for this —
the breathing is enough,
and the intersection
of our days of work —
Work of our hands
Work of our hearts
Following lines of fulfillment
all the way here
to this well-earned
place of rest.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 15, 2014

Observations of the Day

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I.
The central sun
is hot enough
to reconfigure everything,
take it to its core,
restore it to its primal element,
recombine, release
and let the energy increase
as it radiates the essence out again.

II.
There is serene joy
in moving with the primal ebb and flow,
uniting in the oneness of volition
with wind, with sand
with stars, with trees, with tide.

III.
I need you to believe
my arms will hold you,
Need to feel the weight
of your release,
For in that weight you’ll know me
and I’ll know you,
and that is where we give each other peace.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 14, 2014

Uses

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Useless Bay

Birds flock and thrive in Useless Bay
and a profusion of sand dollars
finds the shallow waters perfect
In the great long breath of the tides
So much life is nourished —
No bay is useless.

No one is useless —
Each being is designed
to serve its own purpose,
Not the blind command
of someone else’s machinations
but the fine demand
of all that strives to live

And though it has been hidden,
By and by you have to see
that who you are, for you,
has never been frivolity.
No moment of your being
has been wasted,
Each breath has served
your existential purpose
And who you are has always been
precisely
what the universe
most needs for you to be.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 13, 2014

On Touch

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Last Sunday I did a poetry presentation, with the help of some friends. This video is longer than fits the flitting attention span of social media browsing, but it develops an idea that I’m currently very excited about. I’ll post shorter segments as we are able to get them ready. I also look forward to sharing my friends’ presentations.

 

Pre-dawn

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pre-dawn

There is a time before dawn
when it feels like it will take
a long, long time
for that thin hint of light
to reach across the huge curve
under the horizon,
and all of yesterday’s heat
has dissipated
and a deep cold has settled in,
and your vigil might be intermittent,
sometimes driven under
by fleeting clouds of sleep

It feels like it will take
more waiting than you can endure,
But then the light
leaps across the whole sky
and glows behind you, too
and the stars hold their peace
and morning comes.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 11, 2014

The Gift of Here and Now

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I offer this moment —
Gift to Spirit,
Gift to the ever unfolding presence —
This time of the half moon gaining strength
against the deepening of evening,
These trees, now in silhouette,
with their occasional hushed
lofty observations,
This time of walking
on the quiet pavement
while distant traffic roars
and headlights sometimes loom
down the suburban streets . . .

I offer this moment
and wait to receive
in whatever way it may come
the gift of here and now.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 10, 2014

All the Answers

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squirrel

It’s OK
if you don’t believe the resolution.
The resolution scoops down
underneath all your doubts
and catches you up, whole.

It’s good that you don’t settle
for pat answers
that don’t include
the niggles and the questions,
the need, sometimes,
to be unfinished, complicated,
unexplained . . .

It’s important that you don’t
esteem the Allness
as just what may be showing
on the surface

There’s time.
There’s time for every little curl
to feel its center
and its code
and its potential,
There’s time for every world
to circle home.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 8, 2014

The Allness

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I can’t paint
the allness of being
on a canvas supplied
by the framers
of the big lie,
Can’t depict
the grandness of good
with the paltry palette
of commercial symbols,
Can’t comprehend freedom
in the confines
of the box of fear.
I need to quiet down
and let the chatter clear

My heart, on its own
will always move toward truth —
It will sink down to it
with the certainty of water
and spread out to it
in the steady drift of clouds,
It will rise to it
as heat moves ever out to warm the cold
and it will settle
in the solid pumping presence
that it always holds

And there, beyond the clamor
of the last condemning voice,
I will meet the Allness
and rejoice.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 7, 2014