Cancel my subscription,
update my address,
please be assured
that Seattle and Portland
are not cities of the antichrist
Please know we didn’t
willfully tell our friends
to send things to us
at your postbox
In that thin and flat satisfaction
of filing things
I put the pleasure
of issuing these notices
free from indignation –
in clarity and peace.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 10, 2021
The page is blank as evening settles in,
my pen marks are still visible,
but not the words
I sit here in the glaze
of tiredness and satisfaction,
waiting for the images to sketch the day
I have the pleasure
of being kind to bees,
and holding kind thoughts
towards everyone I can imagine –
in my mind, I stand up for their sovereignty,
I send encouragement
for their enlightened clarity
And here at home
we have a new peace,
new ease in our communication –
this is what’s given,
and I will take it freely,
this taste of heaven
in the last glow of the day.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 9, 2021
In this time as I come closer
to considering my heart’s desire,
I notice that it hasn’t changed,
though it has been completely redefined,
for I always wanted
to pull substance straight out of the air,
to make things manifest,
I wanted magic, and wanted, too, to fly
And in living life in Spirit,
every thing I do
pulls substance out of presence,
finds riches
in the qualities that Life entails,
which I can find with my attention
and bring forth with my affection
(another thing I find is always there)
And as for flying,
what greater freedom is there
than to move from grace to grace,
from joy to joy? – apprenticed to bring forth
the fruits of Love
in the tender healing acts of every day.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 8, 2021
I know that time means nothing to you now,
though in your time you did enjoy your sevens,
as you enjoyed the gifts that others offered,
as you received each offering with grace
Such a fine trait it was,
how much you valued everything –
each kindness, each expression,
the talents and the tastes of every friend –
I somehow wish
that everyone had noticed it,
that we had celebrated you
more than we did
But now that doesn’t matter either –
I feel your generosity
grand enough to cover all of that,
grand enough, as always, to make us shine,
embrace us all and leave us feeling fine.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 7, 2021
I may not yet be a fledgling
but I feel I’m being nudged –
nudged to pry my feet out from the nest hold,
nudged to see what these wings
may be able to do
What would it be to let go
of all these dependences –
what would it be to learn to lean
on other ones – the principles of flight,
the currents in the air,
the still untested nature
of my design?
Great parent of us all,
You who know and own
the heart of all of us –
guide me in my tiniest of hops
from branch to branch and upward,
till I find the sky.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 6, 2021
Some days, things we count on fail –
the camp stove rusts out, the showerhead
gets blocked, the jar that holds the knives
breaks at the bottom
And though we thought we had no time
for tending things, we have to stop –
clean up glass, replace
the knife container, showerhead, and stove,
and in the pause to fix things,
life gets better
Some days I’m just happy –
the summer rhythm folds me in,
and time and progress
get a different measure.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 5, 2021
It turned out that I, too,
was able to cash in the chip,
was able to fall into the thought
that transcended the problem entirely
In my mind I could see you washed clean –
not needing reform, not needing
torturous penance to pay
And none of the tokens
I may have had stashed,
none of the tallies of wrongs to be righted,
needed to be redeemed –
they were gone –
the great hole where they had been
was filled with light
I was silent for a long time
pondering this,
feeling the space within me
so much larger
than I ever thought I was.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 3, 2021
Why am I always the bad guy
in your stories? I said
Who else do you see around?
you said
But why can’t I be the good guy
sometimes? Oh, I see – you’re
the good guy …
In the still space, after the laughter,
I considered – I will only ever
see played out
what I believe to be the story –
if the story doesn’t change,
the reason’s obvious
If I want a different story,
I must first believe it’s possible,
and then see it pre-existing,
a thing already true.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 2, 2021
The situation rights itself,
yesterday’s prognosis notwithstanding,
storms clear, light rests softly on the sea,
reflections ripple, colors pass smoothly
through each other
And hope turns out
to have always been there, its reason
as clear and solid as the rocks,
and smiles come easy,
former strain forgotten
If talk of casual lies,
of being broadly cast as enemy,
slump into view,
don’t be dismayed –
lies can only pass as truth
before the truth is seen –
our collective witnessing of truth
will wash the story clean.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 1, 2021
River of peace
flows out from us –
be still enough to notice –
to notice that the heat of argument
is not us, the rage
at the bland cruelty of some other side
is not us, the hot tears
at having tried so long, so hard,
and still not seeing any signs
of coming any closer
are not us
Much as all those things claim
to need our attention, what they really need
is our calm. One that extends
all the way to the bottomless
limpid clear
simple justice
of truth. One that extends from our source
and rises as it flows
and where it goes,
the land will thrive
and all the waters will be healed.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 30, 2021