Author Archives: Wendy

El Dorado Canyon

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I fall into this place,
into a space deeper than words,
deeper than names and concepts,
deep as the dark pink of these boulders,
fresh fallen, broken open,
deep as the cool shadows
holding out against the cooking climb of sun,
hidden as the paths of roots
buried by rockfall,
thrusting and exploring underground
like those that twist along the surface
before they dive in.

No words can reach here now,
in the sudden knowledge
that flows along contours
and reveals itself
in cracks along the fractured face of rock
and in the eager shining path of streams
and their cold like gold
against my bare feet.

Later I will surface
and try to capture it with words,
Like that stone underside captures
light ripples from the stream,
like those dragonfly wings shine
bright against the sky.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 19, 2013


Release

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I release you
to the greater parent,
the source of your I Am,
the equilibrium that guides you
from the center of the earth,
the inner light that grounds you to the stars.
What you are has always been
so much greater
than any sense of you I tried to manage.

I release me
to the greater parent,
who will not hold me to my failings
but ever lifts me up
with awe inspiring joy —
tosses me, laughing, towards the sky,
catches me, surely,
in arms that know me as their very own —
sends me out on splendid paths to roam,
brings me to an ever wider home.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 18, 2013


Circling the Wagons (a missive to myself)

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Come here. Close the door.
Hush. Listen:
If there’s a bad guy in your paradigm,
you’ve already lost.
Comb through the siftings of your mind:
What do you see?
A terrorist? an invasive weed?
A giant evil corporation?
A family member who’s unfair,
who fails to understand?

Come closer. Come deeper in:
There actually is a way to win.
Beyond the achy fog that forms
between your eyes, above your nose,
that drifts down in a drab gray mat
and settles in that sad place 
that affirms it is your starting point —
the place from where you have to rise and rally —

Beyond that place is where we need to go —
Where it is clear —
Where you can take hold of your deep truth
and know:
You don’t need to fight in that battle.
The paradigm that stages any bad guy
is the only bad guy.

You can win.
Your source is infinite,
your being vast.
You live where you are already the master:
nothing to fight,
Just everything true to stand up for.
Nothing to lose,
Just all of your substance to gain.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 17, 2013


Everyone Gets to Come

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Don’t be afraid —
Don’t look ahead in dread
of narrowing life choices,
of chances missed.
It doesn’t matter —
for in the plan of days,
Everyone gets to come.

To the grand reception
of our timeless gifts,
to the celebration
of what we’ve always been,
to the home that holds us
splendid and beloved,
Everyone gets to come.

In the great rapture
of interaction in the moment,
in that enchanting weightlessness
where you can’t tell for sure
if the impulse comes from you
or from another
(though it is yours as surely as you feel it)
In the joy of that transporting,
far beyond what you could know to ask for,
Everyone gets to come.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 16, 2013


In Bloom

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For that flower to appear,
the conditions must be just right.
It may be that it happens only once — 
Once in a lifetime, once in five hundred years —
If it were left to chance
you might never have seen it.
But you are here
and you have noticed
and perhaps you were the one
whose attentive, open gaze
and ready heart —
what brought you to this place —
are what have lent the air
these right conditions
to let this flower
open here for you.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 15, 2013


Observation

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I lie alongside myself —
it feels like two of me,
the me curled in the heart of Mind
and me imagining myself
as one observed.
The identity of the observer
is important —
When I feel that someone loves me,
the observer looks on kindly,
and I can snuggle
inside myself
assured that I belong.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 14, 2013


Designing

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It’s a funny thing
that I could so totally inhabit another world
as to make a double exposure
for my eyes:
Though I am driving here
along these roads, against these skies,
I also breathe papaya
and avocado
and sheets of rain arrested in their slide
down a humid landscape,
and cool tile floors offering respite

And if there is a way
to really harness this power,
we’ll be off and away,
making things real,
bringing one or more new worlds
into the light of actual day.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 13, 2013


Butterflies

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(notes on the second summer five-women gathering)

Let us melt
into the soft, orgasmic
surrender
where everything that we’ve accumulated —
the triumphs and the woes,
the stories of what’s happened,
the win and lose of what we have become —
dissolve into imaginal potential
for our metamorphosis
into our own.

What we have called a false start
or called a failure,
or called a choice that didn’t do us good,
all serve as food for our unfoldment,
unmarred by scars from anything we’ve done.

Here in this company
we feel our wings expanding
just like our hearts
that hold each other whole —
the selves we own
by seeing them reflected
in kindred eyes that shine the light of Soul.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 10, 2013


Homecoming

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We all come around to the same thing —
Some through worship,
some through reckless living,
some through questing,
some through steady working.

At whatever place we put our efforts
We start to break in —
The walls of our illusion start to thin,
so we can glimpse the wideness of our being;
The floor of our confusion fades away
and shows the wondrous depth
to which we reach.

So we focus,
so we understand
the nature of eternal God within,
the sweet imperative of the I AM.
And everyone we thought was so impossibly diverse
We’ll see, now, with the welcome eyes of oneness,
And everyone we thought that we could never comprehend
We’ll see as neighbor, recognize as friend.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 9, 2013