Author Archives: Wendy

Watching the Competition

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At a certain point I notice
Being nervous for another
does no good
and the tight way I’ve been breathing
with my breath held at half way
I must replace
must finish my inhale, then let it out
For no matter how I hold myself suspended
I’m still here
with all my weight
Any eggshells I’ve been sitting on
are roundly crushed
so I might as well relax

I know I’m called upon for something higher
I know it’s right for me
to hold a space
but not this one
I need an open place
within my consciousness
A soft, pervading peace
that holds no nervousness
that lets the grace
that always waits to flourish
open out, flow in
in healing waves with which I can take part
and so restore the rhythm 
of my heart.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 28, 2012



All I have

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All I have
to give this love with
are my hands
my hands and my spirit
and my strong desire
How could I have thought
to leave them out
to give love telekinetically?
How was I not taught
to use everything I have
all of my consciousness
including my body
to tune and give this love?
Generations of us
grew up lost
but here it is:
my hands, my arms, my heart —
all I have —
Now I am learning to use, 
to give and receive this love,
all that I have
all that I am.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 26, 2012



a humble prayer

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today

let me own no opinion
let me be led
let me not try
to construct meaning,
envision purpose,
steer my craft
there is plenty here
in this receptive place
enough to do
in learning, listening, following
that I don’t need
to pull a plan from the air
don’t need to
invent or vaunt myself
it’s enough
to be here.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 25, 2012

Music in background: “Simple Moments” by Isaac Shepard




Love’s Quest (graphically speaking)

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Funny the asymptotic arc
of what we call love’s quest
In one quadrant
(the one that’s called the quest for love)
We find the emptiness that never is fulfilled
the need that cries and cries
and so attracts
only more emptiness
a howling fall
that moans and moans
up an endless shaft
and even when it tries to rise
it never meets its goal

In another quadrant
(the one that’s called the quest of love)
We find the fullness that can never be suppressed
extending gracefully and effortless
an energy that never is depressed
a presence that can never be alone
since everywhere it looks
it finds its own.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 24, 2012



Sounded Through

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A flute, after the song is done
Still holds the silver echo in its shaft
The soft sweet stirrings of vibrations
In all the places where it crooned and laughed

It’s said that flutes, with age,
grow richer —
the frequencies of former songs
all etched along their smooth interiors
which, with each touch,
arise more keenly, newly strong

Love is the same — it plays you like a flute:
Each song in which you let yourself be played
will make your singing richer, deep
The joy with which you then reverberate
will be a quality you’ll always keep
that sings you ever closer to your truth.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 22, 2012



In tune

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To be in tune
is such a natural thing
though unacknowledged
in our benighted sphere
A thing that babies know at birth
and try with some success at first
to teach their parents

Why do we then fall into such confusion
Thinking that we’re born without a clue
and must be plied with tedious instruction
before there’s anything we know that we can do?

It opens up a yawning gap
that stretches over many weary, lonely years
of seeking satisfaction in the proffered tasks
expected failure deepening our fears
When what we really wanted
is so close to us, so simple
To listen once again to infant wisdom
To find the ancient science of connection
Ride on the waves 
that make us move as one.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 21, 2012



Thought Channels

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Thought’s landscape — how it changes
         how the current rearranges
                 deepens here, deposits there
                      accenting flows, directing rivulets
Thought follows patterns
        in its swift recursions
                 pushing at the rock
                    wearing deeper channels
           As it flows swifter
                it may push
                   over formerly dry edges
                     trip itself, dislodging stones
             fall into a new course
which then in mounting rushes
      it can follow
            And the force of it
                    occasions new attention
                                And the joy of it
                                    invokes a new dimension
                              And the pulse of it
               thunders the perfection
of another way to think and feel
          another thing
                    now known as real.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 20, 2012

Legacy

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for me and you, and for our parents

You don’t need to be sorry
about your legacy
You needn’t doubt
the impartation of your gifts
These things have never stood
on your performance, your success or failure

Sure as the stars
The light of your being
has sent its beams
and the continuity
of your essence
still streams
steadfast across light years
timeless and unchanged

Whatever gifts you tried to package
Tried, with fumbling hands
to deliver to your children
Whatever they have said
or misconstrued
or failed to see
Your light has always shone on, true

And always shone, as pure
in their bright being
Nothing you have done
could dim it
Nothing you didn’t do
could ever let it fail

It’s what you are
that blesses them
that always has —
Not something you determined —
Something that was given you
before the world began
as it was given them
Rest easy 
for your love
has ever been enough.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 19, 2012



Soul holding

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And when he leaves his home each day

Embarks upon his sea of consciousness
Alone along the arc he travels
through crowds and conversations, correspondences
Who holds him, stands beside him, with him, guards him?

And when she hugs her cat
and leaves for work
in shoes she chose to play the part
along the corridor down which she walks
so far from any touch or recognition
Who holds her? In whose heart resides her image?
Who keeps a constant cord of close connection
belays her, holds the strong affection
to draw her home, remind her who she is?

How is it that we spend
the vast part of our day alone
tossed in the waves of our perceptions?
So dear it is to hold in thought the anchor
of someone who is holding us within

Then, friends, let us each lift up a soul
For something so intense
it is astonishing
how light they are
And that’s because they’re held already
Glistening as strings on Spirit’s harp
Suspended intricate and steady
Still grateful for our touch
that wakes them up.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 18, 2012

Picture: Jennifer McCurdy, Gilded Wind Nest. Photo by Gary Mirando.  Background music: Max Richter “Andras”

Lullaby for Edward

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Spirit current, take this man
Move as him in light and sound
Bear him on a journey of remembering

Fill the hollow of his soul
Let him know himself as whole
Coursing joy and steady strength engendering

All that he has been since long before the dawn of time
Let it flow through him in a reverberating chime
Bring him through the shadow of these weary days
Fill his heart with laughter and his lips with praise
Let him fly in surety that everywhere he’s roamed
He’s always been in your embrace
And so forever home.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 17, 2012