Tag Archives: grace

Jubilee

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lagoon reflection

This is the jubilee,
and all debts are forgiven.
Nothing that has weighed heavy
on your sense of worth,
nothing you have tallied,
no way you were measured
and found wanting
gets to stand

Consider the sheer brightness of it,
like sheathes of water falling down mountains,
like the water-colored silence
where all clamor ceases,
like the clarity that fills your face
after the water splash:
in this moment, you are free

None of the acts or reactions
you thought had trapped you,
none of the ruts
you thought defined you,
none of the bad choices
you thought required atonement
have any mark upon your being

This is the jubilee
where you start with
what you now see
you have always been.
All debts are off. Begin.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 2, 2016

Balancing Stones

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balanced stones

The stones in our life
at this juncture
are more etheric than these

— These with their mute weight
and satisfying surfaces,
heavy to the arms and hands,
the better to sink into the plumb line,
to sit into their place,
to embody, in their standing,
such unexpected grace

May we have equal clarity
to balance purpose and timing,
progress and patience,
transition and that which stays the same

May our monument
stand in time just like these —
curves of sun and shadow,
transcendent peace.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 20, 2016

Ye Shall Find

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greenlake sun and reflection

The secret elixir,
abundant in the lake of grace —
deep as its reflection of the sky —
pure as tears,
will quench your thirst from inside,
provide the satisfaction
you wished you could believe in,
all those parched and lonely years
when you wandered amid the fake fountains
(cellophane streams you couldn’t even
put your hand in)

It is here behind the wall,
dark as wet concrete,
cool as echoes from the heart of caves,
warm as hope, as promises fulfilled —
When you drink of it,
you’ll never thirst or doubt again.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 19, 2016

Approaching the House

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June grasses

The big house of gratitude
is over there on the hill —
we’ll get to it sometime.

Right here there is walking
through tall grasses,
there is the touch of the slight
burr of their seed heads,
there is the touch of sun,
there is the dance of color
and the dance of winds

These things are small
and ephemeral,
they can be passed
in a step or two.
But there is gratitude.
Yes, there is gratitude here, too.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 17, 2016

Artesian

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Winter trees, Discovery Park

When I’m still,
and ask for it,
the inspiration comes up swift,
quick welling from the deepest pools within me,
sudden flowing, as if struck from rock

But truly
relying on catchment —
all the collected liquid
from the upper hills
coalescing down, bubbling out,

Clearly not a thing conjured
with tricks of thought,
clearly testament to my context,
to the terrain in which I rise,
natural as weeds, as springs,
as love,
from every cradling crevice.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 10, 2016

Going Forth

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Green Lake sunlight

I will take nothing with me,
no preparations, no opinions,
no preconceptions as to
what I may contribute,
what I may receive,
no assessments of the problems
or the limits, no concerns
about the inputs or the outcomes

I will take nothing with me
but the promise
that what I need will arise
in the alchemy of interaction,
in the provision, in the book of Life,
for the perfect meeting of everything
and the exultant spark
of the connection
that lights up all the stars
that comprise our presence.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 9, 2016

Respite

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Hileman clearing

The day lightens,
not through any effort on my part.
The sun warms, the load lifts,
the promises assert their buoyancy,
rising like swift bubbles
through my heaviness,
leavening. Filling out
the wispy dreams,
making them solid,
giving them color.

It suffuses me
like blush,
with strength, with hope.
My feet reach down
and settle in
and find their ground.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 6, 2016

Let it Go

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winter birch

Well, you don’t hold up the world
by worrying, so let it go,
let it go

Seeds in the ground
don’t need your exhortations
to bide their time
and spring forth when they’re needed

And your body
doesn’t need you telling it to breathe,
telling it to beat its steady rhythm

Let it go, let it go

Everything comes home,
in its time. Even the venturing out
is part of it, part of the
ever-growing claiming and reclaiming
of its own —
its place in the divine dance of being.
It will do so without your worrying —
let it go.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 29, 2015

The Right Question

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suburbs

I will ask the right question
in the gentle morning
when dreams have run their course
and been forgotten
and dawn has sent its scouts ahead
and will come later

As surely as the rolling earth
will always keep a face beholding sun
I will ask the right question
and hear its true response.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 20, 2015

Waiting

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window lights

Throughout the rainy day,
a quiet sense of order
filled the house. People coming, going,
tasks accomplished,
music playing, soft lights glowing —
It was a day of nothing major,
but a visitor remarked
on the abiding peace. It’s been
a good day, in an unassuming way,
while we await the imperceptible
unfolding of a timeless truth.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 18, 2015