“Prove me now herewith” —
For they are indeed open,
present in everything that fills with light,
waiting in the spaces
between our expectations
Windows of heaven
ready to pour forth such brightness,
such soul-gracing truth
that all our limitations dissolve.
We step across the threshold
caught up in glory.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 9, 2018
Alone, I find myself drifting
in some odd space between hunger and tears.
The day is benign, and everything is breathing —
Clearly, it all knows that breath is gratitude,
and that it’s enough to fully engage with it,
taking in and releasing
in the dance of mutual blessing
It almost seems I could join with it.
It almost seems like something I could never leave,
something I have never left.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 7, 2018
Calmly we are instructed
to stop whatever it was we were doing,
whatever it was we were thinking,
and wait for the lifting,
the gentle sifting
where all the cold gray lumps
of worry, expectation, disappointment,
precipitate and fall away
and the pure joy
of flying in Soul’s murmuration
becomes the center
of what and where we are.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 22, 2018
Sometimes it feels good
at least to imagine being carried,
at least to act as if the fate of the world
(or my small part of it)
doesn’t depend on the quality
of my thoughts, doesn’t depend on me
And indeed, this may be a key —
to unscrunch my eyebrows
and release the worry entailed
in thinking I have to drive something
so much bigger than I am
Let this be a lesson to me,
that the soaring harmony of spheres
knows how to take care of itself.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 13, 2018
I took down my high wire act
(which, truth to tell, involved mere puppetry)
to stand in this soil
and breathe the air
of humility
It may be a long walk from here,
all along the ridged and valleyed land,
but my feet will learn to know the ground
and be satisfied.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 11, 2018
And in the ponderous time
it seems to take
to do the simple tasks,
may we gain experience
in presence, and in gratitude,
in noticing, in overcoming
And how we find our rhythm
with all the things that don’t need clocks,
that arc along the day
according to their own grace,
the kiss of rain or sun
enough to crown their deeds.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 10, 2018
Across this path the trees
have written of themselves,
their shadows elegant,
celebrating the gift of sunlight,
their gift to us who walk here
while the wind blows strong
and spring is still a promise
And promise is something
that we’re looking for,
along with any signs that clarify:
promises are not about the future,
promises express the grace of now.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 5, 2018
We will go in the strength of
what fills us with our sense of presence,
what gives us grace, what affirms
the I Am that courses through us,
waking up everything, thrilling us
with the warble of life,
the power where we are.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 3, 2018
Hush. It is good
that we be quiet,
the better to hear the soft stirring,
underground, of swelling seeds,
the gentle parting of willing soil,
so recently too hard to move
It is good that we be quiet
to form the backdrop of gratitude
for the early warble of birds
unafraid to be first
to celebrate the dawn
In the sacred quiet, our hearts
relax from taut waiting,
even before we can otherwise sense
the springing forth
of our perennial grace.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 2, 2018
I’m walking through the city park,
my face full of sun —
My mind dips back suddenly
to another such time,
long ago,
when I was craving innocence,
not knowing then
what I know now,
that it is not a property of youth
or of maturity either, for that matter
It is that which is never effaced
by the surface of things,
that which we remain
to the core
through all the changes
that pass through us,
that which I can bask in,
then as now,
that which centers me
in ever present home.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 26, 2018