Sound Current

I come aware
of the river of sound
flowing through me
and its currents
all around
singing to me

I dip my face in,
Fill my throat
with sweet music
Warble it out
Let it quench
my constant thirst to be in tune,
Let my bones hum,
my heart descant 

I roll and dive
in its bright curl and tumble,
Luxuriate in its exultant presence.
It bears me up, enlivens,
teaches me
It takes me homeward
to infinity.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 7, 2013


Touching

Here is the spiral that goes down
All the way in
Curling with you
the way you want to curl
Infinitely deep
till it touches
that point of satisfaction
where you wanted
to be touched

Here is the holding with you
that doesn’t care
what you said
That lets the hurled words
fall off like froth
And moves along the deeper layers —
the need beneath the words,
beneath the thought

We have all the time in the world
All the time to be comprehended
Down to the core
All the time to let
exquisite balance
assert itself
In which we can unite
in silent gyroscopic spin.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 6, 2013


Going home

I was driving home from dance
and the traffic lights
(red, also in the random droplets
on my windshield)
swayed in the wind —
A gentle undulation
in perfect time
with the shimmery piano music
in my car.
And I could see the music everywhere —
In the slow glide of lights,
and the orchestrated movement
of the traffic.
And in my breath
was the scent
of many people
with whom I’d shared the magic
of the dance.
Going home,
and taking with me
what my body, grateful,
once again had found:
The matrix of connection
and its sweet embrace
that holds us in the music
all the time.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 5, 2013


Swimming

I don’t want to ever again
stumble
amid the rocky mazes
of social mores
Or ever bark my shins
against my own obtuseness,
My failures to anticipate
how something I might say or do
may have a bad effect
on someone else.

The tide has risen
and I now move
in a different, kinder medium
Where, in the main,
my weight is born
by that in which I swim
And the soft currents we create
uphold a natural coordination.

I will insist on moving in this ocean.
If, again, the tide goes out
and if I find myself
marooned amidst the ruins
of expectations,
I’ll stay still and watchful
Tenacious as a mussel
till the tide returns
and I can swim again.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 4, 2013


Synergy

By your light I am illumined,
By your grace, I’m magnified;
By the gift of your unmuted shining,
I’m enriched beyond all swift surprise.

By your listening ears my voice is called;
By your dance, my eager spirit leaps;
To your song, my own tone rises up
to hum, to tune, to blend with your clear voice.

How can I then describe
what this has meant?
(A glimpse enough to open up a world)
— a treasure that I never could imagine
or invent —
Such wonder now evoked!
Such potency revealed!

©Wendy Mulhern
February 3, 2013


Reflections on being stood up by three different people who had made appointments to view our rental house

Consideration,
in your calculus,
may not be something that you owe
to strangers —
People you have never met
and may never need to meet,
if you turn out
to not require their services.

And maybe those who have it
know it’s more of something
that you owe yourself —
Integrity in how you interact with others.

I, too, was young once,
and inconsiderate,
and never wrote to thank
the lady who once put me up,
and then sent me a gift,
and I never replied.
I think I thought it didn’t really matter
since she was old
and likely soon to die.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 1, 2013


Laundry

Here in these world-crossings
it seems important
(though I swear, it is not!)
that one’s clothes be clean
and free of spot
and so
although I know
for this old dweller in a former time
there is no way to make him notice
make him care
I treat his clothes with stain remover
as a matter of course
so we can be more comfortable
to see him walk
in this disinfected world
that is no longer his.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 29, 2013


Because you can

If you could,
Wouldn’t you use
all the tools you have
to feel love, to feel alive?

Wouldn’t you use music
and dance
and fantasy
and observation, jolted with
surprise,
and wonder,
and the tingling sensation
of remembered touch?

Wouldn’t you let
the padded feet of your affection
lead you down paths
of new connection?
— Hands reaching eager
even if you can’t see?

And if it doesn’t map
on what you’ve called your life,
Won’t you allow
your sights to be lifted?
— Step into the fullness
of everything 
this life, this love, imparts!

©Wendy Mulhern
January 28, 2013


Pontifications

They had been taught to think
the truth was
an observable entity
that stood between them,
and one or another of them
could be more right
about what it was.

They were willing to allow
the actual truth might be subjective —
Her truth and his, mine and yours —
Colors and perspectives altered
by our points of view.

They didn’t know
that truth is not an object at all
but is a chord of harmony
that comes into tune
like a radio wave
and becomes the whole sound
and renders all vision one.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 27, 2013