The day fills up with
the bobbing of grass shafts,
their heads identifying
distinct natures
above the blades
The day fills up with
winds that rise and fall
and the clicks and tocks of ravens
and the crystal-colored calls
of blackbirds
The day is full of
the presence of Spirit
rising up through everything,
causing and being everything,
each seed head and foot fall,
each breath, each perception,
each grace.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 19, 2019
Is it OK to take a moment
before I step back
from the dry path of sadness,
to feel the desolation
before turning back to green?
It isn’t forbidden
but why I seem to want this
eludes me. this path was fruitless
even before the hope died,
it was a way I would have wasted
life energies and time
Well, being here, feel it —
feel the hollow wind
sucking at the dry rocks,
feel the hunger, feel the sorrow,
feel it for as long as you may need to
Then you can turn yourself,
and live.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 18, 2019
And if you didn’t think
you had enough,
you could always
open all the doors,
especially the ones
you thought were locked,
especially the ones
you didn’t know were there
A willingness
to allow for their existence
will help you see them,
a humbleness of mind
will help you find them.
What you need will flood in
without disturbing anything —
a dawning of awareness
of what’s here.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 17, 2019
Not even time is exempt
from the rushing wind of Spirit,
not even the past can harbor wrongs
that don’t get swept away
All things are clean —
no atonement is demanded,
no punishment required
before you enter
the liberating kingdom
of the law of Life
Right now is when you’re governed
by that which has no adversary,
that which holds as sole demand for you
that you be subject
exclusively to Truth.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 16, 2019
In the story, the devil rubs his hands
and says, “I got her!”
but I will slip free —
I will not allow sticky webs
to be built in corners
anywhere in my mind
I will not allow any compartments
to limit the luminous goodness
I see in the face of my neighbors
and sense in the love that I feel
I won’t be drawn in to complaint,
for it hides the brightness inherent
in each one’s desire to be loved.
It’s easy enough to just love them
and let the devil lose.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 15, 2019
You wear the look of love
on your face. It’s easy to see
that someone lets you know
that you are cherished, every day.
It lends a sense of comfort
to your gait, your smile,
lets you move easy
through the changes in your life
If I can help someone —
—anyone — to look that way,
I’ll surely do it. It’s worth considering
in what small ways, and in what kind
of continuity of care, I can convey this
to people in my life,
so they will have the comfort they deserve.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 14, 2019
The wind sings through the fence,
tousles daisies, sends waves
of wheat-colored shimmer
through otherwise green grasses,
lends a gentle respite from the heat
We work on tasks for the mind —
how to see things, how to count,
what to count as real, what counts,
cicadas keep us company –
the welling and receding of their song
is counterpoint to trees’ rustle
and drone to melodies
of distant birds.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 13, 2019
By virtue of your being, you can know
(before any assessment,
with no need to take your measure)
by virtue of your being —
just because you’re here —
you can know
that you are good
Good for your surroundings,
good for the ones you know,
good for the rolling out of time,
along the course of things that happen
Don’t ever think your being
is just grudgingly allowed —
you’re not a stand-in
for something that would be better
There is no way for you
to be any less than perfectly designed
and implemented
in the universe of Mind.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 12, 2019
It is a time of baby birds,
tiny choruses at intermittent times
from hidden places somewhere in the trees,
parents busy nabbing bugs
from fir and fern,
a flit that finally reveals their home
There is a joy in knowing without seeing
the daily hum of life,
hearing it move between the glimpses,
within the rustle of the wind,
sensing that, the longer we are here
the more of it we’ll understand.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 11, 2019
Sweet child, feel this:
your source that holds you —
the depth and richness
of what it always offers
This well of sustenance
is your pleasure to pour forth,
in infinite, sparkling refreshment.
Nothing can hold your essence back,
nothing can stifle or wilt it
Dear one, in this
you are never alone,
and the path always opens before you,
bright as a river course,
full as this moment,
gathering others
to dance in its bliss.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 10, 2019