Tag Archives: grace

Divine Approval

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Approval

Every toenail, every finger,
every hope, each deep desire,
every tendril of your being
reaching out for lower, higher

Every way you’ve always wished
that you could be received,
Every gift in you
you wanted someone to believe,
All the efforts you have made
to find your tribal home,
All the work you did
while wishing not to be alone

These things all meet
with heaven-sweet, divine approval —
You are loved
from the deep core of who you are,
You’ve never stepped beyond the glow
of Love’s unceasing care,
So it must glow in you,
and where you go,
it meets you there.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 27, 2014

Lift Your Head

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No guilt,
of being found
with the impress
of a wound, stamped
in the sad and haunting image
of a wound
that you always have detested,
that you scorned
as it, in turn, was spurned
by countless others
in your place
who wished
as deeply as do you
they could be free

No curse
upon the generations
no alarm
no stain upon your visage —
You are pure,
as pure as all the others
down the broad and brilliant
pathway of your line,
For when you lift your head
out of that dream,
you lift them all,
and when you’re lifted,
you all, together, shine.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 27, 2014

Touched

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In feeding we are fed,
In meeting we are met,
In every act of willingness
to come forth empty to the touch point,
we are filled

The fountain rises bubbling
from the awe-struck rock,
The flames burst out
from the friction’s spark,
The inspiration rushes
suddenly and steadily
into the open space
prepared by humbleness
for great paths of wind
sweeping into the deepest chambers,
touching the quick,
igniting swift
life fire within.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 20, 2014

Resurfacing

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Twice today I finished typing
and hit the “send” button,
and noticed that my heart was sounding
that homing drum,
that turning thump
that signified
travel to altered states,
passage through some narrow place,
(speed-squeezed along the airfoil,
pulled through the lift
of the attenuated pressure)
the re-emerging into normal day
requiring decompression,
proof that I had touched the table
of some deep-lying truth.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 10, 2014

Momentous

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At this moment
I feel my weight is
infinite,
in that nothing can move me
from my here.

When I move,
I engage the spin of the earth,
the swirling up of trade winds,
the gravitation of seas

In this point of balance,
responsive to the landing of a wren,
the look of recognition,
I am always moving
but always here

And this is true for all of us
who spin and swing across the sky
in interlocking orbits,
enacting the momentous dance of spheres.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 23, 2013


Here

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Here is the power
in what you are,
Here is the ground
you stand on,
Here is the soil
that richly holds your soul
nourished in its springy living web.

Here is the knowing
what your light can do,
Here is the strength
that fuels your song,
Here is the quiet
that births the hallowed music
that lifts you up
and bears you home.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 12, 2013


Defending Innocence

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I stand here afterwards,
a bit bewildered —
The flames haven’t hurt me
and the smoke is clearing,
and it wasn’t exactly a battle . . .

I took a stand for innocence,
and it came under fire,
but what got singed was just
the guilty part I held within.

Unaltered was the call
to stand for innocence
and let no rising voice,
indignant, shocked, alarmed,
deflect my steady sight
of innocence inviolate —
every person’s right.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 8, 2013


The affluence of forgiveness

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It doesn’t matter
how big, how horrible
the lie told about you.
It doesn’t matter
how often it was told,
or for how long,
or who believed it,
or even if you, too, were fooled.

It doesn’t matter
how it has accumulated,
what complications got piled up
and up, compounding that first lie,
it doesn’t matter
what consequences have accrued.

In the clarity of Truth
no lie is seen,
and in the sight of Truth
is the forgiveness
that absolves any size lie
and makes you clean.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 1, 2013


What I forgot this time

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When I come again
I will bring with me
what I own —
It fits nicely into my frame,
I don’t need to hold it in my hands
or have it weigh down my pockets.

I will bring with me what I own:
I own this place —
Well, I own the right
to offer home
to anyone who’s here —
Home in my gravity,
home in my mass
and the certainty
of the right of everyone
in this place
to feel at home.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 20, 2013


Your Hunger

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Ah, your hunger
is so attractive —
the way it pulses
the chords of life’s imperative.
The ready urgency
brings out the wild in you,
edge of aliveness,
the non-negotiable.

And it brings out
the mother in me,
the one whose deepest joy
is to feed you what you need,
to see the frank pleasure
in your receiving it.
To see you satisfied
may be the deepest gift
you give me. So your hunger
makes me crave your presence.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 9, 2013