Author Archives: Wendy

Sojourn

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I consider going, like a disciple,
carrying nothing, preparing to see,
like water from rock in the wilderness,
all that I need
blooming up in the moment
of my offering,
of my service

I imagine being caught up in connection,
the igniting joy arising from contact,
the bounty at the spark of it,
the clarity of knowing
there is no other day
better than this,
no moment worthy of dismissal

The match strike lights
the former emptiness
and everything is here.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 13, 2020

Here and Now

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Little soul, don’t feel too sorry
for the time you slept,
the years in which you missed
doing things you loved
because you thought you could be
good at things, without doing them

Don’t be too sorry
for the things you missed
from ignorance, or from miseducation

You live in infinity,
and time you spent asleep
means nothing.  As ever,
you are free to be resplendent
here and now.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 12, 2020

Sounding

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I start to feel the deep dark pools
whose surfaces may shift,
may show or hide
the fathoms underneath

The season’s lights reveal them –
they glint with their reflection,
they multiply the brightness,
illuminating memories

We’ll have no Christmas lights
this year, not even candles  –
the lights that shine for me
will be the deep internal ones,
the ones made brighter
as they plumb the darkness,
the ones that walk with us
along our solitary path,

©Wendy Mulhern
December 11, 2020

Foraging

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One of the deer
regarded me through the window
for a long time
before it moved off
stepping stiffly through the light mud
and paused again, until another
came and nuzzled it

I think these were the twins of summer,
their mother coming up behind,
their coats now in the duller
shades of winter
to better blend with spent and battered stalks

Our walk through winter
is not unlike theirs,
our first time through this passage,
following signs we haven’t seen before
but which are clear enough  –
foraging the prospects of the day.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 10, 2020

Naming Names

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In the fast rolling world
where names are hidden,
since calling things by name
lets you control them,
there is one name
that doesn’t try to hide,
since naming it
invokes its power,
which overcomes everything,
anything that would oppose it –
makes it forget why
it would ever want to –
commands a willing surrender
of all contrary schemes,
since everything desires
to be one
with the One.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 9, 2020

Healing

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All these words have been said
about healing,  how it is your coming home
to what has always been,
how it’s your awakening
to who you really are

These words are true,  and somewhere
beyond the quick dismissal
and the calculation
that these are pretty thoughts
that somehow don’t apply to you

There is a clarity
that sends its straight lines down
so numerous that they become space,
so powerful  that everything
tingles in their presence

There is a truth that focuses and strengthens,
and in its halo
you are made whole.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 7, 2020

Comfort Enough

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I started to think about
what would be comfort  –
end of day, sun gone down,
cold cabin waiting dark,
food to prepare

I started to picture it –
someone to care for me,
some place of light and warmth
where I could rest

The images slipped away quickly,
shifting and melting, canceling out,
till all I had left was a golden glow
and a feeling of worthiness
from having loved

So I knew that I had what I needed,
beyond and above the wood for the fire
and the place I could sit
and the noodles to eat

I knew that I had what I needed,
and that was comfort enough.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 6, 2020

These Clouds

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These clouds that silently appeared
along the western ridge,
that quietly amassed
until they owned the sky,
at least the half of it
where the sun had been

These clouds that signify a turn,
prospect of rain, a wrinkle in our plans,
still paused to let the late sun through
and let themselves be cast in blue

And my desire
is for the same kind of peace
to rule my day –
whatever comes in later still offering
the same generous expanse
of presence and acceptance
and release. 

©Wendy Mulhern
December 5, 2020

Observations while roof building

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These short cold days,
the sun, even when it does come out
doesn’t have much time
to melt the ice, to warm the air,
and while it can land steady
on the south slope,
it only glances down the north,
leaving long shadows behind short stubble,
unable to dry the wood
dampened by fog and frost

This time of year
we fall short of our goals,
leave the night watch
to the cold stars,
start up next day
as slow as the sun does,
move through our project the same.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 3, 2020

As I walk

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And finally, I find myself
enjoying the companionship of silence,
of having no instructions
as my feet step out in front of me,
of spinning no stories  –
just letting the things I see be hymns –
the deer with their tentative presence,
the grass now green again, ferns gone brown,
the piercing blue as fog lifts,
the bracing cold

There’s memory, too –
images unfolding, innocent of judgment,
showing I can also
see my folly without regret,
and younger viewpoints
without correcting

So I learn kindness
in the stillness deep inside,
so I learn quiet
in the unassuming rhythm of the land.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 1, 2020