Author Archives: Wendy

Foundational Principles

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My life depends
on my getting this right.
Not as in
I’ll die if I don’t
so much as that
I live when I do,
really live.

Which means that life itself
will thrive around me
and give me life
just as I give to it,
And I will move within the brightness
of the being that fulfills me —
brings out my essence
as I bring it forth.

It is given
that I’ll get it right,
If not in every case,
at least in moments,
which then must grow
till they’re the only kind —
the bracing breath
on which my life depends.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 11, 2013


Song of Being

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The clear song poured forth
because it had to,
making no attempt
to fill the proffered goals
of artistry and excellence,
oblivious of any frames of critics.
It overflowed all their lines;
they were amazed
and put forth praise
and tried to hold it up
as the new standard.

But it kept coursing forth,
forever free,
forever unimpressed
by what the pundits said.
Clear song of being —
creating its own perfection
in every melody,
in every chord.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 10, 2013


End of Game

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All ye all ye in free!
So we were called home
at the edge of dusk
when the lights were starting to glow
in the houses,
and the evening’s cool
was softening the sky
and we would all return
to the separate circles
of those lights, and our families.

Well, it’s getting to be
the end of the game
and all the chosen roles
and all the tokens
are swirling down the vortex
towards their fall —
What will we hear of next?
It’s a strange thought
that everything might be falling
but we can’t feel it
any more than we feel the earth’s spin
But there are signs
that the whole game is ending
so we are looking up
ready to be called home.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 9, 2013


Development

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Let rain wash around my stones,
Let wind drop fallen leaves
along my fences,
Let the gathered nutrient
from all my edges
call forth ever richer
teaming life

Build up my attention along contour
so what flows to me slows down,
Drops its gift to my receiving gratitude
Let me take the time to soak it in

There is no end
to the permission Life gives
and the ever-presence
of its care,
Its willingness to bless
gives rise to ever new recurrences
of the splendid circle
where all the living things
resound in bliss.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 8, 2013


Reunion

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It was summer
and the bright, reaffirming waves
rolled down across everything
coursing through our limbs
bringing out the warm, languid affection
in which movement and laughter
flowed freely between us

It is summer again today
and we, reunited,
don’t need to work to make connection —
It’s here
in the liquid lines that join us
deeper than words,
deeper than roles,
deeper than thought.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 7, 2013


Life Song

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Let me inhabit
the song that I am,
Let its melody course
through my limbs,
Let the deep crystal harmony
roll out its hum in me
Filling my center with bliss

With the trace taste of 
dust of the high mountain rocks
washed in the snowmelt,
cleansed in its rushing fall
Telling the story
of timeless eternity,
Sending the rhythm on down,
And the soft scent of blossoms
So light and ephemeral —
Subtle insistence on living in now

Let me inhabit 
the song that I am,
Learn from my heart and my bones
How I have known this for thousands of years,
How I now come to my own.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 5, 2013


Cleansing

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I’ve been foiled by this lie before:
The curling worm cringes in
and the fleeing form
sinks down —
This is flight mode,
hide mode,
play dead mode —

It is very effective:
If I try to pry it up
it goes all slidey,
try to lift it and it shrinks back down
The more I try to get it out
the more I am enmired

But I will not give up
If I can’t engage it
(and I can’t)
Then I will flood it out
Flood it with the consciousness
of every tiny, perfect life form,
every act of love under the soil,
every handclasp, every trust,
and all the harmony inherent
in the turnings of the sky,
let those fill me up
so there’s no room
for any lie.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 4, 2013


Evening, Home

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Well, I won’t dwell on
the little unravellings at the edges —
backwash of doubts about an interaction,
nagging thoughts of having done it wrong —

Better to remember
the afternoon light
and the touch of hands
with the home-soaring
but ever unexpected joy
that flew like swallows
from the moment of connection

Better to notice
how deep and ultimately unerring
is the impulse
that stands behind me
ready to pour out
from my eyes and mouth and fingertips
when I am attentive,
when I give consent.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 3, 2013


Not what we thought

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We are the beings who fly
with our minds,
the ones who see the underlying patterns,
expressions of the matrix
of all the rolling powers,
everything that moves
in the stately flow
afforded by eternity,
infinitely fast or slow,
ineffable

We are the beings who find the fulcra
where the patterns turn,
and with our understanding,
we can touch them
so they bloom
into ever more involved unfoldment
Not hemmed in by these,
the temporary forms we thought defined us,
not condemned to stumble blind
amid the powers that bind us

We are the beings who ride,
standing, reins in hand,
down the face of nature’s spirals
Let us remember
We are not helpless,
not what we thought.
When we hold strong
in humbleness and service,
We’re so much more.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 2, 2013


Earth Song

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Hush, hush,
Let yourself curl
in and in along the folding currents
of yourself,
in that weightless place
from whence you came,
in the inner infinite,
until you hear
a murmuring of waves

This is the song
the earth sings to herself,
in the depths of her continental shelves,
in the swinging of her tides
and the slow shifting at the molten edges
of her plates

Trees reprise it to their sleeping seeds,
in reaching roots, in weathered memories;
Winds take up its refrain 
as warm air slides up sensually 
along the sinking bank of cool;
Rills whisper it to rivulets
which join in choruses of creeks
which fall to streams
which roar in rivers —
ever-present hum of life
reminding us
where we come from
and where we gratefully, unerringly 
return.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 1, 2013