Tag Archives: healing

Our love will heal the earth

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Our love will heal the earth
for we are willing
to stand as open vessels
in the heavens’ rains,
to let them fill our senses
with the elemental essence
that tunes us clearly
to dynamic truth

We’ll leave our platitudes,
we’ll leave our fears,
we’ll leave our policies
and habit-tuned reactions,
for love requires
that we meet every moment
with the rapt attention it deserves.

Love infuses us
with the harmonic touch
that lets us move in kindness through our days
a touch that teaches us
the wholeness of ourselves
that wakes up earth’s deep joy
and ours in turn.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 1, 2014

Dawn

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When he wakes up each morning
It takes him a while to remember
the nightmare has been banished
from his waking world

Though it had sat there many years,
a dense cloud that dulled all light,
dead weights along his limbs,
a constant punch of dread against his gut,

It isn’t here now.
It’s gone.
There is a light scent of sunlit dew,
of snow from distant mountains,
There is a catch of breath
and a bubble rising
from somewhere deep within,
There is a new day,
and the power of his ancient balance
reclaimed

There is love to live
and life to love,
and it is plenty.
Yes, it is enough.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 21, 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


Recovering

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Underneath
the roar of my breathing,
more solid than the many thumps —
my heartbeat and its tributary pulses,
deeper than the image of myself
spread out along the sprawl
of my body,
is where I find my peace.

There is a quiet fire
that doesn’t even flicker
at the perturbation of yawns,
that isn’t damped
by the gathering of fog.
It warms my bones
and sets them secretly aglow
beneath my flesh,
around my silent core

And it will burn
throughout the hours of sleep,
delivering me sound
into the arms of dawn.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 19, 2013


Atomization

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Each of them felt alone
but maybe it wasn’t true.
Each felt the others were against them
but maybe it wasn’t true.
Each one felt caught up in a seesaw
where others put them down
out of a need to be the upper one
but maybe it wasn’t true.

Maybe the conflict 
really was a screen between them,
distortions in the filters,
which none of them owned.
Maybe if they felt betrayed,
or framed, or misconstrued
it wasn’t others, but a general fear
that fogged their view.

And maybe any one of them could pause,
Just stop.
Breathe.
Wait.
Long enough to let the dust fall away.
And keep on watching till they glimpsed
the other as a mirror,
shining, multiplying back their light.
It might astonish everyone
and maybe it’s true.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 18, 2013


Starting over

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I want to take us to the place
where we can start over.
No. Better than that —
the place where there’s no race,
and we can give back
all the false starts,
all the mistakes,
all the things we did because
we saw no other way
though we could feel how we betrayed
ourselves and others.

I want us washed
in a great bubble bath,
wrapped in a grand snuggle
where all is forgiven
and we can be seen
miraculously unframed
and be forever true
to what we are.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 7, 2013


Morning

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Waking up,
you start to see
that there’s no need to go back
among the scattered shards,
the steady ebbing of your fluids
and the halted breath
to find and try to rescue
all the fallen parts.

Nothing is broken
and your being
shines as fresh within this day
as it has always shone.
There is no tally
of all those wrongs,
the generations of remorse,
the shame.
It’s all gone
in this, the morning:
Your name is clear,
your loveliness the same.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 29, 2013


Still Point

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Seeking stillness,
seeking coolness,
you sink gratefully
into the center point
where everything expands
in endless depth,
patterns and colors
incidental to the clear focus
as the stillness opens on and on —
round sound welcomes you in,
with ample room for echoes.
There is as much time here
as it ever takes
to coalesce, to find home,
to be reborn.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 16, 2013


Incubation

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There is great value
in the unformed place
where the bee dance of particles
buzzes and clusters,
groups and regroups,
and a new understanding
can start to emerge,
something that’s shared,
something that joins
entities that had been separate
in some grand and wild
sliding together space
where all prior sets
of intents and opinions
are widely thrown away

And in the fresh fertility of union,
quick shoots start up,
vigorous and smooth.
New air is touched
in wonder by leaves
that had been, till then,
unimagined,
that now can take their place 
in the lush, emergent forest,
doing the sun work
to bring the great dream into being.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 24, 2013


Changes

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Though we had imagined
a grand falling
attended, perhaps, by fire
and much bloodshed —
courageous sacrifice
to stand against the roaring maw —
and finally, colossal crashing,
followed by
a slow and tenuous rebuilding,

In the end
it was more a transformation,
a subtle redefining, a soft shifting,
something felt within the bones,
which then was seen in a great clearing —
dissolving of a shroud
(to our astonishment)
that we, up to that point,
had thought was sky —

And all the things
that never quite made sense
were then revealed
and so we claimed our place,
regenerated, healed.

© Wendy Mulhern
June 12, 2013