Author Archives: Wendy

Opinions II

Posted on by
1

Opinions are like snapshots
Frozen impressions
Maybe true in their moment
But static —
When you’re holding them
you’re not seeing
the moving truth of now

If you think that you’re comprised of your opinions,
Each time you meet someone you’ll  think
for you to get along, your opinions have to match
You’ll pull them out, negotiate
and maybe you’ll be sad
to find that no one there agrees with you

But if instead you know that you’re comprised
of the dynamic interaction
with what comes before your eyes,
with every opportunity to be amazed,
to understand and value things
in your inimitable way
to co-create the truth 
with others who are present
You will find
remarkable confluence 
of a satisfying oneness
and a lovely, bracing playground 
for your mind.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 4, 2012



View out the window

Posted on by
Reply

-Maxwelton Aerie, July 3, 2012


The urgency of growth
captured in a gesture
of kiwi vines reaching —
a faint dusting of red
along the underside of a leaf
light shining through it
Given voice by the songbirds
intimate and plentiful
Celebrated by a wild profusion
of high-climbing roses
in shades of orange and yellow
More flowers as you scan —
fireworks in hot pink
poppies in peach
Pastures beyond
darkened and illuminated in patches
by dramatic skies
Everything is rising up 
in the dance of sun and rain

©Wendy Mulhern
July 3, 2012


Alpaca Shearing

Posted on by
Reply















Feels like an honest day’s work
Hands dirty, clothes dirty
Body fatigued
Easy to slip from attention 
to numbness
and on into sleep

Feels good to work as a team
Never abating the pace of the labor —
Hum of the motion of sharing the effort —
till every last thing is done

Heat of the animals
Heaving and powerful —
Holding them firmly
while soothing them softly
Treat them with iron and silk

The sound and the smell of the shears
Precision and speed of the shearer
The texture and spring of the fiber
Gathered up quickly
and passed to the sorters
in grade labeled baskets
over the fence

And I didn’t feel tired till the pause
when a wave from behind me
rose up and engulfed me
and sent me to where
all the ambient sounds —
bird calls and bleating —
took on different meanings
drifting me closer to dream.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 2, 2012


The necessity of trust

Posted on by
Reply

Here is the openness of trust:
that, all permissions granted,
in freedom to do anything we want,
the things we choose
will trend toward what will bless

That in the field where nothing is forbidden —
No kind of movement,
words, thoughts or emotions —
Our own divinity will guide us with precision
to grace of body, mind and interaction

Here is the necessity of trust:
Each gift we have needs freedom to unfold
to stretch out perfectly
and fill its purpose
Not from a regiment imposed on it
But because, internally
it must.

©Wendy Mulhern


June 30, 2012

Relativity

Posted on by
Reply

Everything changes
No one’s sense of self is static
Each one grows
Things you were so sure
would be impossible for them
become their norm
And things you thought you’d never do
You learn 
(That’s why it makes no sense
to hold on to a past offense)

Nothing changes
The primal pattern reasserts itself forever
The track of every orbit orchestrated
The cords of union hold us fast together
However far we think we may have skated
(That’s why we recognize ourselves
in everybody else)

Never too far from home
Never too far
from where we can close our eyes
And let the scene reframe
In that bright centered place
From whence we always came
(The way of being that we always hoped to learn
And where, in soft precision, we return.)

©Wendy Mulhern
June 29, 2012


Kids playing soccer in the park

Posted on by
Reply

Focus power
Focus kinetic skill
Concentrate the energy
Make it do your will
Let it return, so it can fulfill
that sense of presence
that brings you joy
though you don’t name it
nor consciously employ the game as therapy

For you it’s fun
But there is more to it
for in your sending forth
and trapping back
you have created some kind of spirit track
The vectors emanate from where you run
You and the ball and field becoming one
magically connected to your team

So suddenly I understand
This isn’t pointless playing with a ball
This is the growing practice of command:
By owning this part of your world
you own it all.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 28, 2012


Angel Wings

Posted on by
Reply

As I was driving home
the sky was full of angel wings —
Angel wings of all kinds
and I 
having slid through two tunnels of sleepiness
(the first one, a battle with my eyelids;
the second, a little closer to surrender)
Was finally awake enough 
to take in their splendid spread
of grays and whites and yellows 
against the generous blue
Portending something
(I hope)
greater than another day of rain.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 27, 2012


Ode to Improv

Posted on by
2

In this playful place
We have permission
to ride on currents
that we surely feel
though they don’t map
on what we call reality:
A fabricated character
may still know joy, 
know grief, know glee
A made up situation
triggers genuine emotion
in a synchronistic serendipity

A lobster may engage in final banter
with one for whom she’ll be his evening meal
We’ll laugh because we recognize the truth in it
and how, for us, the lobster is so real
And we’ll love because the laughter binds us tighter
and shows us something deeper that we share
And this reality will make us richer
as we move in our quotidian terrain.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 26, 2012


Release

Posted on by
Reply
No one needs to be defined
by failings, or ancestral line,
habitual smallnesses passed down
through fathers’ tone-deaf, caustic snide remarks
or denigrating tone of voice
or wordless attributions 
that would put them in a box

Each one is free
Each father free to grow
beyond the frame his father put him in
Each son to rise to fill the call
of his internal plan
Each father can release his son
from every tiresome lie that held him down
Each son can find the truth
of his I Am.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 25, 2012



After the last tone

Posted on by
1

In the silence
after the last tone has ended
there’s enough time
for anything —
For judgements to melt
For things that were constricted
to float free
For the tension, and then its memory
to seep away

Words then impressed upon the silence
have deep weight
Don’t waste them 
for they can set
a clear and steady course
across the next cacophonous abyss.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 24, 2012