This morning quest
has me once again
seeking the well of hope,
learning what I hope for
Sipping the substance,
tasting the flavor –
my hope for truth, my desire
for life and love
I ponder: this indeed
must be the substance of my being,
this spark, this longing,
must hold the definition
of who I am
Must remind me
what I live by,
what I live for,
what will guide me
humble and exultant,
through the many turnings of my day.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 12, 2022
In the early morning, still cold,
as dew set down pre-dawn begins to sparkle,
as daylight starts to lift my dark vigil
and there is so much more to see
Let me remember –
even in the night I had songs –
they were given to sustain my hopes,
they stayed with me, although their words
spoke of something I had not yet seen
There’s always some sustenance.
Maybe there’s always as much
as I’m willing to receive –
songs in the night, or bright daylight,
according as I’m ready to believe.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 28, 2021
If I am faithful
I will not entertain
thoughts of bleakness –
I will refuse to let them
slouch their way into my view
with their little excuses
and offhand insinuations that
what they are asserting
is all I should expect,
all that I deserve
I can be faithful
even if I haven’t yet seen
the way all these gifts
come together, the way
everything is provided for each
child of the light, including
their opportunity to really shine,
including their shining
lighting the path for others,
including how they make the vision
be fully seen.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 28, 2021
I’m asked to have courage,
and so I ask for courage.
I’m told it’s up to me
to do my work
It’s not a hard thing I am asked,
but it’s essential –
to stand true in my faith,
to not be swayed by signs and stories
telling me of failure,
to look to my good for the evidence
of what my life is made of
I am asked to be strong,
but not with a strength I have to fabricate,
I’m asked to be true –
true to the source of my being.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 29, 2020
When I turned around to look at it,
I saw that I could not have seen
what I did not believe —
much as I wanted to believe it,
I really didn’t,
or I would not have missed it
It brings to question
what I believe now,
and if I now believe,
what that enables me to see
I see this day,
I see the peace in it —
what I may see tomorrow
is not for me to say
It will unfold
along the lines of my attention —
as I hold my source and center clear,
I’ll know.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 14, 2019
This is not something I believe,
for to believe requires a structure of belief,
a scaffolding of many
assumptions and perceptions
wired together, bracing up each other
And here, those suppositions
are dissolved in awe
before a truth so fundamental
that nothing of the past remains
And so I wait
to see what vectors of reality
can now inform my breath,
infuse my walking
(or whatever way I move)
I wait to see
my substance now emerging —
its order timeless
but new to me.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 13, 2018
Can you feel what holds you
as well as these birds can,
diving and darting fearlessly
from the tall trees?
Can you feel it bear you up? —
such a gentle touch, with room for air
between your feathers —
room for you to breathe
but not to fall
Hold still, and see if you can feel it
guiding your steps, your work, your thoughts,
ever in the place where the bright surge
of joy, of life,
pours clearest through your being.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 30, 2018
I ask myself the questions
but I don’t know how it happens,
don’t know how all these distant things
come together,
how we collect what we need,
how we join the pieces just right
so things really work
There are so many arenas
in which I don’t know this answer
But I will note that,
in this one instance at least,
when I cried,
when I confessed my helplessness
(and after I had failed)
the answer came in
all by itself.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 5, 2018
The smoke retreats slightly
and I lift my head, best as I can,
out of the morass
I summon the image
of prison walls. If, after all,
I can imagine standing my ground,
holding out for truth
despite all fierce displays —
if I can affirm that nothing
can remove me from
the atmosphere of Spirit,
then why not here?
What knots of thought convince me
that I should go under,
that I should suffer
until the smoke disperses?
What virtue would it give me
to die from missing
the kiss of fresh air through my being?
No. I’ll fight back.
I’ll stand strong
in the atmosphere of goodness,
I’ll be a place of purity and peace.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 4, 2017
Ah, we have tried
with our minds
and with all our art
to bring the dawn —
we have visualized it,
and declared it,
we have understood its theory,
even publicized our musings —
How is it
that it has not yet come?
What more do we need to do?
People say
that dawn is subjective anyway,
coming at different times
in different places —
If that’s the case,
how will I know it
even if it does come to me?
©Wendy Mulhern
November 20, 2015