Author Archives: Wendy

You, always

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The miracle of you
has always gleamed— 
Bright dash of grace and harmony
Invoking angels’ gratitude
And who you are
has always been
as deeply loved
as buds forming
deep within protective casings
deep within the Principle
in which they curl
and in the Love that orchestrates their unfurling
As deeply loved as baby birds
And the care they call forth
in their attentive parents
who may not know why
but certainly know their calling

And who you are
is hedged about
as tenderly
as night’s soft shade
encloses coming seasons
and day’s clear dawn
reveals the seasons’ coming
And who you are
can never be denied
For you were made
with such great joy
And you are celebrated
with such sweet pride.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 20, 2012


Tantrum in my mind

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There had been a collision
There was trauma — of the peanut-butter-in-hair sort
There was whining and stamping of feet
and one who had retreated 
to a closet to cry
(with occasional backward glance
scanning for audience)
and one who was screaming
and one gnashing teeth
And the drama
distracted the onlookers
from the fact
that what was being asked
was not that hard
and patience was possible
and a good bike ride
putting miles between
the problem and the one who was
refusing to think
could be enough
to reset the scene.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 19, 2012


Out of the prison

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If we allow one prison
We are all in its clutches:
The threads from that one knot
in the system
Spread into the fabric
of everything we do
We know
that if we fail to toe the line, we too can fall
into the place where even the least decisions
are denied us

So we deny
in little ways
our own decisions
We let fear
do the deciding for us
Let those subtle shackles
creep around our ankles
till we’re caught

If there is a freedom
A place as small as a walnut
we discover in our hearts
to hold our soul
In that contained infinity
It can fly
Can gather energy
Can be, without becoming
in a place with no confinement
where no prison can restrict it
And so we
Delivered from the tyranny of prisons
can be free.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 18, 2012


Nourishment

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In the face of everything
we’ve been fed
Empty, deadening, toxic
I still affirm
We can know what feeds us

Despite the false choices
with which we’re inundated day by day
the cheap vulgarization of our triggers
the sea of trash that can’t be thrown away
I still affirm
We can know what we want

And though the words of love
have been so thoroughly misused
applied to tiny wicked shards
that cut us as they shine
made to divide us
where love most wishes to unite
We still will find
Inside, we know what love is
And it outweighs all the lies

And everyone who’s tasted love must give it
And in the giving, it will grow
Till more and more of us can truly live it
And every need will be well fed
in its bright glow.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 17. 2012


Regarding Hunger

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No, really —
Who am I to write about hunger?
— I who have never been more than eight hours
without access to food?
Who am I to write about hunger?
— I who have always had time to search
for my soul’s fulfillment?

I can only say
There is a kind of hunger
that doesn’t go away
from having my belly full
There is a kind 
that grows in strength the more I feed it
And there’s a kind of satisfaction
that flies along at the exact place of its hunger
Soars in comfort
Meeting the edge before it cuts
Carving its curve again and again
like a cresting wave
Drawing a fine calligraphic line
across the page of days
Filling up my heart until it bursts
Warbling praise.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 16, 2012


Currents

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Sometimes I think
these currents
that run through me
have their own direction
Move along the lines
of some higher physics
Great coursings of 
a cosmic gravity
I neither originated
nor comprehended
till their sweep
pulled me into some deep purpose
drawing me along its will

And if I find that will becomes my own
It’s no surprise —
Such fulfillment,
such subsuming satisfaction
is not a thing that I could manufacture
When it rises
how could I resist?
—Sacred initiation into all that is.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 14, 2012


Our New Story

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We never
gave up on each other
Though our messages
between our universes
were so hopelessly distorted
maliciously, meticulously twisted
by forces that knew
our love would blow the sides out
of the boxes that constrained our power
thus destroying every mask of bondage
for us and also anyone who saw us

We never gave up on each other
Though we sometimes walked in silence
of despair from all the times
the message failed
We couldn’t give up on each other
For when you see another’s soul
You are compelled to hold it
Hold to that vision till you see it true
So we held on
till our lights
outshone the lies
and pulled us through.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 13, 2012


Focus

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My truth is not betrayed
And though I trade
in things that can’t be seen
I am not fooled
What is not seen
can still be known
I hold my truth
and so I’m not shortchanged

I watched the whirling falling of the maple seeds
I felt the fall of other bits of husk
I saw the leaves, green on layered green
I felt the sun

My love is not betrayed
Though it be not reciprocated
Where my love is made
it will sustain itself
It settles
Finds its focus, finds its home
It falls like rays
It falls like light sifting
Illuminates the scene
and knows its own.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 12, 2012


Keystone

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This is our foundation
Octahedral core
Locked together in a structure
that stands firm
holding open
the arches of energy
so great currents
of light
of power
can spiral through
up and down

We stand here strong
Holding it
At one in our service
to the elemental rhythms
At one like the sides of an arch
Our love the keystone.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 11, 2012


Coming Home

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My longings set out first

some weeks ago, like clouds
wandering upon some wind
looking for the stream to bring them
where they wished

My thoughts came next
More efficient, they immediately
found themselves home
attended to the things they needed
word empowered, neatly ordered

Finally, my body makes the trek
It’s slow, but it’s learning
It can’t quite fly like longings
or just be there, like thoughts
Today, through flights and waiting
it makes its way

No longer a delicate package
prone to discomfort
which has to be managed
No longer an egg
with liquid insides that get shaken

My body is learning
to stream free in Spirit
to move with the currents
that move all the elements
Not yet proficient at getting there quickly
Still it will find its way home.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 10, 2012