Come back home, little one —
it isn’t far — it’s right here, in fact —
let your curled up body
feel the comfort of the floor,
the cradling earth beneath,
the sky blanket above
You can come back
into yourself, you can feel
strength flowing to you from within.
You don’t have to put on a perfect face,
don’t have to feign invincibility.
What you are will bring itself full circle,
as you wait for it,
when you’re ready,
you can stand up whole.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 29, 2019
The trees give shady respite —
I see their gentle breathing
in the rise and fall of limbs —
they are at peace with wind,
with Spirit
You are like that today —
in the calm of your demeanor
I feel the day breathing,
your spirit a balm against the work,
your steady motion
bearing us forward
along the course that we are learning
not to plan so much as ride,
not to engineer so much as live.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 27, 2019
We looked up, delighted to hear
in small strains, the refrain
of crickets returning
Soft, intermittent, rising and falling,
not in the trees where we heard them
in previous years,
not as a constant, a chorus that stretched
through the days and the nights of the summer
But cricket song, still, here in the fields,
slowly increasing to fill up the late afternoon —
a light recompense
for things we have lost,
a reminder that everything changes,
and things that are missing
can also return
to be loved and rejoiced in once more.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 24, 2019
This, right here, is the place of adventure,
here with the hole in the clouds
where blue sky sounds through,
here with the broken bootlace
and the black bugs that ate our greens,
here with the work that needs to be
pried and prised from our powers of invention,
and then, on top of that,
needs to be done
This is the place of adventure
where we plumb the depths
of our understanding, then go deeper,
where we live in the light
as far as we know it
and still keep going
There may be other adventures,
years down the line, lifetimes away,
but this is the path by which we’ll get there,
placing our feet down
in every step of today.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 23, 2019
Today I see the value of a quick release,
the way I can unhitch myself
from trains of stories, when I feel them
careening towards a cliff,
when my emotions
have set up camp
and prescribed a course of action
that entails me crouching in the mire
of hurt
I asked myself,
which would you rather?
This, or being strong, resilient,
competent, and free?
— That was my quick release —
my choice was clear —
to leave the crouching mire
and center, here.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 22, 2019
And now I’ll tell you of the time
when we all took off our crooked glasses
and shook our heads to focus our surprise
and spent some puzzled moments
trying to readjust our eyes
but then admitted
that here and now, as never
in our prior experience,
we could see
— because no longer did we need to fear
what someone else might think of us,
no longer did we need to squint
to weigh each other in the scales,
no longer did we think that judging others
was something we or anyone
was tasked to do
So we were free —
free to move with all the strength
and competence, and sweet compassion
that we always dreamed comprised our being,
free to love, with no fear of rejection,
free to trust our clarity of seeing.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 21, 2019
Let me feel Your presence
like morning dew
that settles in so gently,
occasioning the tiny movements
of my thought, the small adjustments
that let the truth sink in
so I am nourished,
so I am changed
Let me respond
in opening of new blooms,
the possibilities Your truth advances
in places where the untrue myths
have melted off,
the startling expanse
engendered by Your everpresent light
Let me grow into it
in just the pace that You design,
calling me by name,
saying, “you are mine.”
©Wendy Mulhern
July 20, 2019
The true thing
present in this green and golden
afternoon, with events suspended
while time ripens
and firs sing wind songs
while little birds converse
The true thing,
older than all the human stories,
newer than anything we’ve thought before,
is Life’s unfurling of itself
in multiple dimensions,
in ever awe-inducing harmony
for all of us to be.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 19, 2019
In the dream, the little girl
pulled the shining life jewels
right out of the air,
and when others scrambled for them,
reaching out in desperation
for the ones that pulsed with power,
she seemed surprised. “It’s right here,”
she said. She opened up her hand
and pulled out more
On waking, and in latter days,
I find that what she said is true —
It’s right here — infinity of life power
waiting to be pulled out from the air,
waiting to be lived.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 18, 2019
I am learning
it’s not enough to sit
well beyond the fray,
and see, with eyes amazed
at loftier perspectives,
the inner workings of the human scene
It’s not enough
to see the heartache and the failings,
because, if I can see them,
they are mine —
mine to soothe and smooth,
mine to see whole
If I haven’t seen that yet
then I’ve seen nothing —
there is no wisdom
but the one that heals.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 16, 2019