Evening light washes through the house,
most of its heat relieved by wind,
but apparently still able to zap me
with the memory of noonday sun,
the sweat and the burrs of the work with wood,
and how I wanted to sleep, after
So we will take a small rest,
wait for the sun to go behind the hill,
and then prepare for our day’s final task –
to heft the crusty dusty logs again.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 23, 2023
I start to find my home
in the web of consciousness –
I visualize it
standing behind
the world as I had formerly defined it
I see the fine net,
network of intelligence,
the present definition
of what has to be,
I feel the net light up,
and the euphoria
of moving through its branched infinity
Whatever lies may have been laid down,
they have no place, no way to hold sway –
the presence of the All Mind
is all that can be found,
its brilliant thought takes up the whole space
And you are showed, here,
who you have always been,
you are showed what you can now be,
the layered truth holds you on all scales,
so tight you have to know
that you are free.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 22, 2023
This is heart –
A small bird starts flying around
in my chest, and there’s enough room
that it doesn’t feel caged –
it swoops and soars,
wheels and turns,
lands and takes off again
The space expands with its capacity
to take more daring flights,
the heat it generates
rises to my face as smile,
and I will take this bird
where it wants to go –
Again and again, I’ll do what I can
so it will spread its wings,
so it will launch and fly.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 21, 2023
The house of Love is not
a tent I need to hold up with my hands –
I don’t need to be tentative –
don’t need to try the ropes
or mend the canvas,
don’t need to canvas
for votes or for acceptance
The house of Love
is never taken down,
nor can it be abandoned –
we live here with abandon,
and welcome everyone
to find it home.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 19, 2023
I am eager
to relearn the world,
rethink the causes,
more clearly trace intelligence
I am eager to see
how every ant and every grass seed
uses its design in ways more fluid
than mechanics, in ways that birth the purpose,
on every scale at once,
of all of this – for, see,
it is all music,
and it’s all joy,
and there are so many places
for me to see this,
so many ways
for it to burst forth..
©Wendy Mulhern
July 18, 2023
Wind sweeps the afternoon towards evening,
doors rattle in the house,
we, too, could be swept,
taken by time down months and years
We try to stitch ourselves to the moment,
hold ourselves in place that way –
be doing something, or feeling something,
but ultimately noticing:
if it were our work to invent ourselves,
we wouldn’t see the point of it
The Mind that holds us
has a grand laughter
that makes us feel at home,
secured in joy, in something
so much greater than ourselves
that we can laugh, too –
laugh and let go.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 17, 2023
The bright report of basil at my fingertips,
and fresh chopped garlic when I came inside,
were echoed in the sweet strains
of guitar strings tuning –
all sending messages across the air
Then there was breakfast,
and there were songs played,
and there was conversation in the cool house
And then submergence
in a cold creek,
and heat to warm us when we came out
In early evening
the sunlight plays along the walls
while shadows outside scam impressions
(false for now) of cooling.
The contentment that embraced me
just a few days ago
still bathes my world. And truly, that’s enough.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 15, 2023
I, too, can be a holder of home,
the place where you feel comfortable,
where it is understood
that what you say will be received,
who you are will be accepted
Let me hold home for all of us,
where none of us need clutch a shelter
around our heads, where the broad roof
covers us amply,
and wind can blow through
if we want it to, bringing scents
from woods and field
None of us need to invent ourselves
and maybe get it wrong – at home,
everyone’s being flows from the source -generative harmony
creating us endlessly,
leaving no place for a rift,
making our presence a gift.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 14, 2023
I find myself content with what I am
and what I have, maybe more so
because i didn’t feel it yesterday.
I come back to the dance around me,
back to where the summer air
is enough to stir up joy,
and the bounding growth
of plants under my care
feeds hope
One young buck,
coming by the door at evening,
velvet visible along his antlers,
seemed to show that,
even when it feels improbable,
life finds its way with elegance,
life finds its way for each of us,
gives us each our ways to go and come,
gives us each our elemental home.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 13, 2023
I start to come up
from where I had fallen,
start to come back
from where I was knocked off center
The first thing is noticing
the sense of separation, and the second
is waiting, like someone just awakened,
for my orientation to return –
no words in this part,
just an assertion of shape-memory,
gradual and incremental
After that, I am able
to talk about it. And my talking
makes a different kind of sense,
it smooths and soothes
my ruffled consciousness,
it pulls me back to where I know
what and how I orbit, how I move,
and where my stillness rests.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 11, 2023