Within this reckoning
of what I know
and what I owe,
and what it would take
to be free and clear,
I see that I have to keep giving,
have to keep giving up
every single excuse
I make for myself,
have to keep giving up the self
that measures things
in terms of finite gifts,
have to accept
the infinite demand,
to reap the Infinity
of the I Am.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 15, 2021
On the one hand,
I’m not interested
in being snagged
in emotions of days,
or being tricked into feeling things
I think people think I must feel
On the other hand,
I don’t want to paper over
anything that might lead
to deeper understanding,
anything that, by being healed,
would bring me closer
to the light of truth
So I let myself cry
but don’t make up reasons –
bring this like a tithe
to where it might do the most good.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 14, 2021
(Moments, 2nd iteration)
Where there has been euphoria –
light whipped like blond curls
triumphant in the wind,
sailing down the sound,
light pooled like coals
in the aftermath of dance,
light felt as heat
in the warm coursing deep within –
These moments have been places
where the veil was somehow rendered
more transparent –
where a faint gleam of true essence
has wakened me, if only slightly,
to what is present always,
and I think it’s fine
to seek, in each moment,
the place of thinning
where the eternal light
floods into view.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 12, 2021
(from the virtual biking philosopher’s virtual notebook)
Well, you’re right – no moment
is inherently more fraught
or more luminous
than another. Each one contains
things for us to notice, or not. Each can be
a portal – to memory, to comprehension.
Each has its own singular shine
in right here and now
Even the times of tears, of dark waters,
have their luminosity. Even the direst strait
has its laughter. And it’s not like you can shop for moments, online or at a store –
you can’t choose out your bargain moment,
or pay with many for one of great price
The afternoon sun sifts under the trees
and sets the moss aglow. The wind
pauses and starts up again. Many birds
proclaim the brightness of their busy lives.
Each moment bears witness.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 11, 2021
How many times, today,
can I remember
to stop,.to stoop,
to write on the ground?
So may I notice
there’s a choice besides reaction,
a way my pause
can stop a wave of wrong
Let me not react
to what I see or hear,
let all my actions
flow straight from Spirit
and grant to each the grace
to find a place to turn
and realign their actions with their truth.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 9, 2021
In a defiance you couldn’t help,
you threw off the regimens,
the measured judgments, all the ways
you could be counted,
all the things you counted
as what might count or not count
in how you measure up
In a defiance that came of
being much bigger
than those judgments could hold –
infinite, actually –
you expanded beyond all boundaries,
embodying the humming
of the universe
There’s no parsing of this,
no point in even bringing it
to the counting table.
What you shine back
will not be counted in the old coin,
but everyone will feel its touch.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 8, 2021
Our hermit status
is not one we chose on purpose –
the closing portals of communication
were more like grass growing over,
and blackberry vines – things we thought
we’d attend to, when next – if only –
we could get the chance
But after a time I think maybe
we won’t even know
where the portals were,
won’t know how to open them up,
won’t remember, maybe,
why it would be
important to do so.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 7, 2021
When I feel like curling up into a small ball,
when all I want are arms that will envelop me,
when tears are peering out my windows
edging for a place they can release
When I have cried until I stopped
and feel I might again,
and my outlook is too small
to take a long view,
and I have given up on stories,
so I have none,
and there’s no reason, nothing I can ask for
Let me remember
I can keep at this as long as I still want to,
I can let whatever triggers this
give all it has.
When it is all done,
I’ll feel the arms around me
and the steady, constant comfort
that they always give.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 5, 2021
We follow the lines back
to what we understand,
what we know has to be here
for us to be
We pass through voices
that try to slap us down,
to say these things cannot be real,
they are too good –
they are only silly constructs
of our hopes
But we will give each other courage,
we will remind each other –
we couldn’t be here if we didn’t care,
and our caring, thus far,
has kept us going,
and nothing, actually,
has ever made our caring stop
So we’ll deliver us
back to our source,
so claim the potency
of this and every hour,
becoming stronger
from flowing down this course
as we remember
the nature of our power.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 4, 2021
The rising of this vision
is like flocks of birds coming home,
finding their familiar perches,
claiming their habitat
It’s like toes and fingers waking up
after a deep dream,
finding their stretch,
feeling alive to the morning’s call
It’s like singing a line and finding
others singing harmony,
the rich vibration of the blended chord
an uplifting surprise,
something that can carry you
farther than you knew you were going.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 2, 2021