Tag Archives: home

Coming Home

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sunset home

Everybody’s coming home.
What looked like long and rocky trails,
what looked like walls, what looked like jails,
what looked like horrid snarls
of debt and obligation
are all the same

We set out on our journey
with strong resolve,
desperately determined
to give all it takes,
This time to finally leap free
of all those loops that snagged us,
dragged us back
so many times

We’re coming home.
It may be our resolve
or just the truth of our belonging:
The hard travails begin to fade
as we engage them —
We wake,
We wake to find ourselves
home.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 11, 2014

Arriving

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arrival

The water pitched and danced
before the clacking ferry
which churned through
unaffected by its heaving,
Light withdrew to shine from distant pinpoints,
Waves tended toward black

And when, around the chop
into the harbor
the boat slowed,
my temples pulsed in echo
of the wind’s pounding
and I was suddenly ravenous
and longed for the yellow kitchen
and its round table

Home loomed up
in the comforting darkness
around the lighted dock
Crickets confirmed
I had arrived.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 23, 2014

“I Shall Dwell . . .”

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greenlake trees2

(questions)

Where do I live?
Do I live in dogma,
do I live in story?
Do I live in the rolling screen of memory?
Do I match constructs of my expectations
with the way things seem to be unfolding?
Do I try to make corrections?

What does it mean to live in Spirit?
What does it mean to live in Love?
Can I call this a house,
this place of comfort,
this felt experience of being loved?
Can I call this a house,
this consciousness of my delight
to stand here at the threshold
where we may see each other,
where we may meet,
Where we cross over?

©Wendy Mulhern
May 28, 2014

My Request

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mystica arch3

I want to share a place
where I can touch home,
a point to which we come
between our journeying,
And our convergent energy
provides collective heat,
and our communal comfort
recharges us

I want to be a place
where you can touch home,
a point to swing around
in your exciting orbit,
a place to gather strength,
a place to feel
that you are seen and welcomed,
and belong

I want a core that’s large enough
that no one ever feels the need
to bear the weight alone,
and everyone can nestle in
and anyone can find it,
so we will always have a way
to touch home.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 25, 2014

The Law of Home

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We had been taught we had to buy our homes
in the currency of servitude,
our souls indentured for security,
our freedom traded to be warm and dry.

What liberation to discover
there’s a higher law,
to find we make our homes
from what we are.

We make our homes
from what we are:
Like coral, like clams,
we grow our shelter
from the soft sweetness of ourselves
and from our interface
with the vast and seething breathing
of currents rushing through us

We make our homes
in the power of our thought,
conceiving them as we conceive ourselves
inseparable from innate belonging.

We make our homes to hold ourselves together
and keep us where the flow of life
will constantly enliven us.

No way to be homeless,
no need to be fooled:
It isn’t commerce that protects us
but the law of home,
written in the timeless code
of water, waves, and stars.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 27, 2013

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


We Are Home

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There will be no pretending,
no playacting,
no terrified attempts
to be someone who knows
how to move, what to do,
what to decide.

There will be no more skittering
unmoored across the surface
of what calls itself our life,
no more posturing
in efforts to appear to be
someone who has arrived.

We are here.
(as clouds that momentarily disperse reveal)
We have been here for a long time
And we have always owned ourselves
And we know how to move
and what to do
and how to nourish things
and make them grow,
and how to bless,
how to be whole.

There will be no pretending,
for we are home.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 17, 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


A Place Prepared

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Music across the water,
music across the miles,
things to mend our sense of presence,
reassurance of smiles

It’s not too late —
everything comes home
and in its coming brings
great claps of celebration.

So we are all received
into the place created for us,
kept and embellished throughout the years,
though we hadn’t seen it,
refined continually to be sure
that when we find it,
whatever our path of growth has been,
it will fit perfectly
and so will we.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 9, 2013