Within the restful hush
of pre-dawn stirrings
you can feel the low tone of patient stone
that took in fall’s impassioned chill
all through the night
and now releases it
with no hurry,
equalizing the swifter emotions
of day and night
in slow perspective,
as elders view the young
with quiet humor —
nothing of heaven or tragedy
won or lost in a single day.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 4, 2015
In a departure
abrupt or gradual
as leaving a dream,
I grasp onto light lines
I find them in faces,
in flickers of hope,
in the never-completely-hidden
desire to be seen
I see them in the eye-catching
that perceives a sly joke
and sends cascades of laughter
into the shared space
I see you, Oh, I see you
riding strong along your current,
throwing off the crust of
who I might have thought you were
As I, too, flow out from my crust,
swifter than lava,
carrying my new form
out into the light of day.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 2, 2015
Catch me up in the echo of wind
blowing through the dark
with the comfort of miles traversed
up along the coast and through the city,
journeys of clouds and rain bringing promise
of the year’s steady, steadying turning
Let my wistfulness, that longed
to be wrapped and held,
be cradled in this,
the purpose that works its
equalizing movement
all through the night.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 1, 2015
It takes so little time
for wind and rain
to blow and wash away
the memory of that long stretch of heat,
for me to feel the quickened pace of fall —
The strong insistence of its shorter days,
the drop of needles, leaves, and time,
the carpeting of dampened, waiting ground,
the swift intake of cooler breath
There may be sun again
before the winter —
I just can’t feel it now
in this particular cross-pattern
of internal and external weather,
its mix of colors
bright and dark against my eyes.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 31, 2015
There was a moment
when the fields were gold
You could say
their essence was illumined
in that moment
You could say
they were made for this,
you could say that they were vessels
for the sun’s essence
in that last kiss of day
You could feel in that moment
like golden fields —
all lit up —
It would be bliss,
you and the sun —
it wouldn’t matter
how you defined it.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 29, 2015
We are not who we thought we were,
beset by helpless needs,
buffeted by forces that could grant
or else deny them,
pleading for the mercy of the fates
We are not placed here
ungrounded and bereft,
seeking to find some anchor
to afford a fleeting feeling
of belonging
We are sovereign —
The Mind we access
is the universal I Am,
with which we hold all forces
at our center, with our hand
With which we preside over
all the harmony of being
not pushed around by actions or conditions,
instead, ordaining them —
setting everything in place
in concert with the law that loves us all.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 28, 2015
We resonate
as effortless as A strings,
for the frequency is here —
We hum, we sing,
no exertion on our part —
just what we feel, just what we are
This joy of being sounded
is like none other —
We recognize that it is everything
we’ve always longed for,
why we are here.
It fills us with the thrum of our own essence,
gives us our place
in the sweet melody and chords
that modulate exquisitely
all down the vast curve of being.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 26, 2015
Vessel by Jennifer McCurdy, photo by Julius Friedman
Well, in fact,
it’s not possible to waste a day
but if it were,
it might be like this:
too caught up in chores to notice
how blue the sky was, how crisp the air,
how clear the sun . . .
Since it’s not possible to waste a day,
I’ll cash in the recollection of my moments,
I’ll pull something up from within
that wasn’t even there
(at least, not that I’d noticed)
I’ll remember
the attentiveness and power
invoked by driving
a borrowed stick shift car,
and the sweet search for humbleness
that followed a rejection,
and the glimpse — twice —
that acknowledging the hold on each identity
of the one sovereign, infinite Mind
makes a difference in the thoughts and actions
of individuals and the collective,
and it’s something I can do
today, right now.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 25, 2015
There’s still some value
in these prosaic days,
full of tasks and timelines
and hanging suspended
between past and future
There’s still time here
for the gathering
of news from friends —
children’s accomplishments,
parental worries put to bed
There’s space to rest,
if only for a moment,
in the feeling of having done well,
or at least well enough
to roll over into the next day.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 24, 2015
Our desire to bless
brings us here —
Though we feel empty,
we are attracted to the need,
This is what we hunger for
and it draws us
to the opportunity
We desire to bless,
and bless we will.
The goodness we bestow
will satisfy us, too —
Wellspring of water from within,
coming up infinite,
Filling us
with life’s compelling light.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 23, 2015