Tag Archives: love

Because you can

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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


Parabolic Mirror

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If love occurs in micro-moments,
Then it’s occurring
at this moment
as I lie here breathing you
while you are sleeping —
Feeling, in the rise and fall,
the intimacy of breath
and the warm firmness of your form.

If love occurs
in micro-moments of connection,
Consider this:
The whole parabola of my mind —
my memory, my current celebration,
my hope, my dearly felt anticipation —
Will magnify this tiny spark
Displaying beacon lights across the sky.

And this moment
feeds a limpid pool
of many others —
All of them magnified,
All of them bringing light,
Lifting us in the divine,
Teaching us love as they shine.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 25, 2013


A Vision

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In the vision
I was mother,
and from my outstretched arms
flowed liquid light.
And many came to drink,
And I was Mother,
Held steady as the conduit 
of love
that those who drank
evoked in me.

Coursing mother-love
circled in a circuit
Filling me with joy,
with joy and fierce protection,
Joy and wonder.
And as I watched
One and another
filled with light.
They rose like stars;
We greeted each other as equals,
And they turned outward,
Conducting light,
Moving to serve it 
as they each were called.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 24, 2013


Presence

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Through the night
Between my dreams
I feel you next to me —
Your solid warmth,
The smoothness of your sleeping form —
Comforting company.

Throughout the night
We hold each other in our trust
Our solidness 
less of our frames
Than of the blended habits of our thoughts
That keep us reaching for each other
Touching home across the wide domain of dream.

And so it is at day
When the harsh winds of your contracted duties
bear you away
While I attempt to find the heat
to forge my purpose:
Our thoughts reach out across the miles
to wrap each other up
Embrace each other in the shared support
of steady love.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 23, 2013


Cradled

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Spirit is my cradle.
So many hands reach out for love
Grasp at each other, try
to find that solid holding
that can take their weight
and bear them up

So many hands
(mine included)
have felt the flailing
as the hands we reached for
were trying desperately
to have us hold them
And we all kept falling
through the emptiness
of our shared need

But Spirit is our cradle
Resting here, our hands reach out
and give each other
what we have so endlessly desired.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 18, 2013


One Truth

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Why should it seem strange
that for all our differences,
what we all want 
is the same?

Yet I find myself astonished
at how one truth
dissolves so many schemes,
Renders irrelevant the diets, the regimes,
the resolutions and the dogged efforts,
the striving to be marginally better,
the accusations, tit for tat, of sin,
the arguments on which approach will win —

Listen:
You are beloved,
You are accepted,
You are needed,
You belong here,
And your many gifts are priceless.
You deserve to live,
And you deserve
all you need so you can fully thrive,
And what your heart tells you is right
really is.

The moment we are each convinced of this
We leave all hurt and pain and grief
for bliss.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 9, 2013


The hand of Love

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Yesterday I was looking over my old blog, Splash of Spirit, and saw two poems that I had written under the titles “The Hand of Love”, and “The Hand of Love II,” which I wrote in 2008 and 2009 respectively, before I knew I was a poet. The first one I wrote in a writing group that I was leading for homeless women; I think the first line, in the middle of the night, was inspired by something one of the women suggested. In the second poem, I think I was consciously echoing the first one, though probably not looking at it. Anyway, I thought it might be worthwhile to reproduce them here:


The hand of Love

I.
In the middle of the night
the mother comes and strokes the child’s hair
running her fingers through
gently smoothing the strands

In the middle of the night
the currents of dreams softly realign thought
disentangling the questions
deftly smoothing the strands

Soft as water
strong as currents
lifting the mermaid hair 
up from the rocks
smoothing it and holding it 
in disentangled ripples
The hand of Love lifts all tangled things
smoothes them
sets them right and holds them 
in shimmering order.


II.
In the dawning of the morning
Rays of light stream like combs through the trees
Freeing each branch from its background
Lifting sight
Inspiring the chorus of the birds

In the dawning of the morning
The fingers of Love reach every dreaming thought
Warming each molecule
Enlivening joy
Tuning the chorus of the Word.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 8, 2013

Believing

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Maybe
the greatest thing you’ve ever done
is to believe in someone.

Maybe
the anchor of that trust
led someone’s roots
to the deep place of sustenance
where they could pull strength
steadily up into their being
springing forth in beauty and blessings.

Maybe
the best thing you can do
is to believe in someone’s love
For in that flourishing
(the most fulfilling part of their unfolding)
You, too, may find the bounty
that nourishes and brightens
all your days.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 5, 2013


Rolling

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My love is a deep river
Calm and rich and full
If you step in, you’ll be enveloped
Carried in its rapid, steady flow

My white waters fall
to a smooth bowl
Carved a perfect round
from much coursing
Bubbles rise up after the plunge
Sunlight leaps in bright rejoicing

My love is an adventure
As new for me as it may be for you
I know it’s ocean-bound and well established
Still, each turn provides
an unexpected view

Roll, roll with me
Be gathered, swept along
Bring your streams to merge with mine
Bring your song
Great power will roll with us as we surge
Great wisdom will splash forth
as we emerge.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 4, 2012


Bone of my bones

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The only thing
that can flow inside me
is love.
The only thing that quickens me
Oxygenates the deepest reaches
of my system
Wakes me up
and lets me move
is love.
The only substance of my bones,
their solid comfort, steady, strong support,
their unassuming service, their
good-natured density,
is love.

And love ignites the gratitude
that courses through me, leaps
along my limbs,
Curls into my inner places 
with their secret glow,
Lights me like a lantern, pours
illumination out
through my eyes, my skin, my tongue.
And love will ever lead me to my own,
The place that I may bless,
My heart, my home.
And love will guide my words, my steps, my days
In every breath of mine evincing praise.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 3, 2013