I looked for a way
to kindle a small fire,
I sought to nudge the glimmering coals
close enough together
to keep each other warm
so that between them
a flame would dance again
Here, too, I seek the dancing flame,
a thing shared,
enough proximity
that we’re reminded
we share this hope
and when we see it in each other
it will rise.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 14, 2022
At some moment of your permission
I step inside your words,
inhabit the image
that you constructed,
a vessel in which I feel
the rush of life
that you put into it
In that moment
it becomes mine, too —
a gift you’ve given me:
Heart body.
The trunks of trees that spoke
in your father’s voice
There is so much offered here —
so much more than conversation —
a boost of brightness
that arcs beyond the words,
warming and strengthening our bond.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 30, 2020
All we ever wanted
was to be reunited
with our source,
to be in that communion
like water is
as it travels on its journeys
to be reunited with itself,
as it carries light in liquid ripples
through rills and streams
All we wanted
was that certainty
of what we are —
that we are good,
that we are one
with that which lights us up within
We may pursue our winding path
through darkness,
but it’s the gleams of light that lift us
and our light reflecting essence
that guides us
(as we will see when we look)
to everything we wanted.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 24, 2019
And who were you, and who was I
but lights connecting,
pulling out the filament of hope,
on and on, a constant stream
even as the loops and partnerings
within the dance
wove and rewove,
some splendid knot forming
of which we were not aware
or hardly —
the streaming light remaining
the one strong constant
till the smile that dawned in you
lit up the circle,
and as we wove that, too,
it brought us all in.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 26, 2019
And as for us, poor fumble people,
all we need is cuddles,
cuddle of the deepest sort,
that feeds the soul,
that soothes the heart
and makes us know
how dearly we are held
We all come crying, masked, of course,
in our bravado, the efforts we all mount
to prove that we amount to something,
that our presence counts
We ask for others
to give us what we need
but they, too, flounder,
flailing in the chasm of their lack
Ah, if we only knew,
in truth, for certain,
what’s already given,
we wouldn’t need to struggle and to sink —
we’d rest, serenely, in our present heaven.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 10, 2019
Within the sparkle of your being,
between the separate sparkles,
I thought for a moment
I could enter. Could feel the crackle
of electric movement, effervescence
of the spaces in between —
Could step beyond boundaries
to where we occupy
the same space. A way to light up,
a way to receive.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 30, 2019
We were all very happy to share
the stories of our success,
the odds we faced
and how we overcame,
and what instruction could be gained
from our example
But were we willing also
to give the gift of being
one who receives another’s words
and goes up higher?
How we all long for that kind of exchange!
—Where our words are taken in, and resonate
to match and amplify our starting tone,
so we together bathe in sound,
soaking in the rich harmonics
that make us feel ignited and at home.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 5, 2018
There is, in our connection, wonder.
Afterwards, when hollow longing
dogs our door,
let us remember:
All the light we forged
still glows within,
and the spark that made it
never lacks the fuel
to start a warming blaze
and to sustain the joy and purpose
that charmed us so, before —
There’s no cold aftermath
to anything that’s meaningful.
We live, after all, in the adventure —
we live the bright unfolding dance of life.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 21, 2018
I will not be tired or sad or scared,
I will notice
what your face is doing.
I won’t try to deconstruct your mood
but I will be here
watching for your light
If I can be a pool
to give reflection
and maybe some refreshment,
I will be there —
if you venture near
then maybe you will find me
And if not,
wind may still ruffle
the light across my waters,
trees may still rustle
above the quiet shore,
your life still follow
the course that has been charted
and I’ll still hold you
gently in my heart.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 19, 2018
(to Oohna, inspired by a collaboration)
Alleluia, intoned the lark,
for song can overcome the dark —
take it under your wings like wind
to soar through the bright canopy
and bring the light of hope across the land
in echo of the joy of morning trees.
Listen within to where your heart says, “hark”
and say amen — so you become the lark.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 17, 2018