Author Archives: Wendy

We Will Mend

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At some point we will mend —
it is inevitable,
it is our process,
like phloem flowing from Sequoias,
filling in the damage, year by year,
the bark slowly engulfing
all the wounds

At some point we will mend —
We will stop wearing down
the same old fruitless pathways,
stop kicking up dust,
and with it, every chance for things to grow.
We will be still, and with time,
we’ll find what’s needed
to amend the soil
and help the life return.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 19, 2013


Being Nourished

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(notes from the seventh five women gathering)

We wanted heaven
and when we gathered,
each with her desire
for healing, wholeness,
and that light-connection
which we each could feel
was what our essence craved,

When we gathered,
each with unfinished threads
of our own deepest strivings,
having gone as far as we could go alone,
By some bright miracle
and really without any of us trying,
our seeking edges knit themselves together:
In an instant,
quick as light flashing over water,
we each were whole,
we all were one,

We breathed the inextinguishable knowing
what it was like
to be in heaven —
how the strong arcs of our intention
circled one another, held us up,
how we each were lifted
to be a beacon for the others
thus fulfilling 
just the thing we needed for completion,
Thus embracing
what we’ve been and what we are becoming,
Fully tasting
what it is to be profoundly nourished,
what we’ll know to grow to
from now on.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 18, 2013


Another Fairy Tale

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They wouldn’t let her see the enemy —
Long drapes hung down between,
refracting fabric that sent the light
in all directions, so she couldn’t see
what was jabbing at her, what she
was jabbing out against.

No, it was worse than that.
If she had known there was an enemy
she would have stood up, summoned her strength,
her resolve.
This was more like something eating away
at the edges of her being,
bland nibbles never noticed till too much was lost.

Well, that’s how it was at first.
Then she stood up to fight
and they wouldn’t let her see the enemy,
until, in some last flash of survival instinct,
she stopped thrashing at it
and turned her sword, instead, against
the deceptive drapes,
sliced at them, as high as she could reach
until they started to fall,
great cascading ripples of heavy cloth,
their weight finally hastening their descent

And she saw, on the other side,
someone just like her,
lost and scared and wounded.
In stunned recognition,
they both dropped their swords,
the clanging sound still echoing
as they picked their way across the cloth
to comfort each other.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 17, 2013


Borne Anew

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In these past few days
I’ve been feeling
the mysterious lift,
the suspected disconnect,
the unexpected lightness
of sensing that my life
is being steered
by some other hand than mine

And it flies high
and it is strong
and it is tender,
And I can’t imagine
what we may achieve,
But it is bearing me
upward on the currents
of infinity

And I can only let go
of the no longer catching traction
of my feet,
and hold on
to this mighty rising power.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 15, 2013


Re-inhabiting

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We will learn to walk again
among the plants,
We’ll learn to notice,
learn to know
how the light falls,
and the wind,
and how to help things grow.
We’ll learn the nets of life,
the webs of its dependence,
We’ll see how each thing
fills its perfect place.
And in that natural understanding
We’ll make room for one another,
Re-inhabiting our primal
dance of grace.

©Wendy Mulhern 
May 14, 2013


Shared Prayer, King County Jail

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After we finished talking
(in patchwork mix of four imperfect languages)
She held my gaze
and held it
till it became a carrier wave,
and lacking words,
I let myself sink into prayer.
I sent it out across the visual tone
I found the place
where we are one
I found the power
present in the infinite,
the source we share
that nothing can assail.
She nodded understanding
as if I had been speaking.
(“Estoy orando” I said then;
“I am understanding,” she replied)
and we did another round,
silent, deeper
till I felt myself changed
in the broad terrain
where we found ourselves —
knew that this was somewhere
far more solid than the stories of our lives.
“I hope,” she said, in Portuspanish,
“someday I can do for someone
what you have done for me.”
“I’m sure,” I said in Spanish,
“that you will.”

©Wendy Mulhern
May 13, 2013


Working

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I was shoveling dirt
and hauling logs
and dragging brush,
and my legs were scratched
and my shoes were full of
rotted log dust,
and as I was pushing
the empty wheelbarrow
back into the back yard,
over the dandelions 
and forest ground cover,
back between the chest-high bracken ferns,
the air spoke to me,
its sweet warmth full of spring scent
with just enough breeze to cool my face.
It embraced me from outside
and filled me up within
so my limbs felt present and comforted,
and it said to me,
“This is exactly where you want to be,
this is exactly what you want to be doing.”
I had to agree.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 12, 2013


Mycelium (and ours)

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In every interaction
I am healed:
In every interaction
I am made whole,
For this is part of me,
This gorgeous web
that reaches out to know,
to know by loving
and to love by knowing,
to heal by seeing
and to be healed
by the gift of having seen.

So we move
expanding underground to fill the gaps,
so we embrace each other
in our understanding,
So we include
everything that lives
within our circle
So we grow,
eternally enfolded
in one Soul.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 10, 2013


Comparing notes

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When we all come back
from our respective dreams,
We’ll share the things we’ve learned
You’ll say, “I’ve got this down,”
and I will see, with admiration,
how you persevered
through the long parched miles
and the floods
that took the bridges out —
How you built, with your life,
a place on that land
where lush green could return.
And I’ll say, “I’ve got this down,”
and we’ll marvel at the parallels —
All our lives
through such different circumstances
Winning the same prize
Learning the same wisdom
Shining the same truth
right through our dreams.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 9, 2013


Infinity

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Moving beyond
the common daily round,
the obligations and the expectations,
Moving beyond the thought
of what I am, or how I seem,
I glimpse that if I ever feel a lack,
There’s always infinity

Always the infinite impulse of Life,
Always the fathomless reaches of Mind,
Always the vast, unmarked terrain
of every heart

And I can move beyond
the strictures that confine my thought
within the walls of what I call myself,
and all the troubles that entails —
I have infinity,
and that will always be enough.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 8, 2013