Standing at the point of who I am,
I will not be cowed
by the arenas stretching out before me,
each one claiming
that I must take their challenge,
must imbibe the bitter fear they offer,
and the almost certain disappointment –
must be tested
and probably found wanting,
at least helpless
to see good prevail
I need not go out
from who I am –
I can bring that with me,
and as it is written,
the trees of the field
will clap their hands.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 19, 2020
In the ever vibrant presence of the Spirit
comes the gradual loosening of names –
names that were given roughly
to the rough shapes reflecting
our rough understanding
Spirit shakes things finer,
like motes, like ions –
we recognize so much more
than the old names could capture
We give up the arrogance
of being namers,
wait tingling and yearning
to receive our names.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 29, 2020
I call on the ever-present
nature of all things
to speak up clearly
as the inner voice
in all of us
to let us each feel
how grounded we are
in the sovereignty
of that which is
and all these swirls —
tornados and manipulations
barking out conformity,
herding us to fear
may roar above the surface
but don’t come where we are,
don’t change a thing
except perhaps
to clarify our truth.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 16, 2020
I’m practicing
this way to be small,
to be nimble:
to leave behind me any armature
that could be jousted at, could topple
(divest myself of it whenever it is sparred with
or whenever it kicks up the urge to spar)
to leave behind me any burdens,
any worries,
to ask the big question
that wipes them all away
and so define myself
not as a big structure
but as a small point of light,
one that grows brighter
the more that it reflects.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 15, 2020
You can’t see your source,
the same way
you can’t see yourself —
it comes up from within,
it faces the same way you do —
it is your impulse, your inspiration,
nothing you can separate
in any observation
from what you are
Certain things you can see
in reflection,
but then you and your source
are both looking at the same image.
The point isn’t to try
to see it face to face,
the point is how you dance with it inside.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 27, 2020
We may look and find the place
where fear was painted
up in the mauve underside of your scales,
making your protection prickle,
making you uneasy underneath
We will hold you so gently
as we rinse you clean,
all of that pigment
making it take a long time
till the water runs clear
You will feel it then,
the knitting together — yourself
with yourself, the relief
of the new clean place,
the integration, now that there is no foreign substance,
the power rallying within
You can rest now
and let yourself absorb
what it is to be fully you.
You’ll reach out open
to make the true connection,
the flash through you
and us
that lights the land.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 23, 2020
This is not about how you need to be,
This is about what you are.
How you need to be
is so, well, needy —
it chafes against your brows, your lungs,
it sighs, it paces,
it rides itself with a crop
(gee up!) it stumbles forth
half hearted
What you are
is not like that —
it moves gracefully,
like light on water —
weightless, unsinking, delighted,
responsive, here to serve,
generous, whole and tender hearted,
receiving the reward of its own being.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 15, 2020
It isn’t a unifying force —
It’s much more gentle than that,
simple as sunshine, the present fact
of what’s here, of what properties
always are seen
in the way things move,
the way they interact
We can know we belong
in any here we find ourselves,
because we, too,
move like that —
gentle necessity,
the nature in which we rise.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 14, 2020
There is no part of me
that doesn’t hear
the voice that speaks my name
There is no part of me
that doesn’t answer,
grateful in remembrance,
glad to be reminded
of how I am so intimately known
My tongue prepares
gold tribute in my mouth,
my arms reach out
to hasten the embrace,
my thought body swoops
across the field in joy,
my heart body stays close,
following my breath
Amid the many clamoring voices —
dragon’s breath roar, swift dismissal —
this voice rings so clear
it claims my full attention,
these are the words
I’m happy to repeat.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 3, 2020
(from the biking philosopher’s notebook)
You don’t own your spark
but you owe it —
owe it your attention,
your time, your thought, your care
You can’t use your spark to serve you —
you serve it —
give it everything you are,
all you can do
And in return
it will mature,
become a flame, become a light,
you will be nourished in its service,
even known by it —
it will make you what you are
and guide your every step
and as you tend it daily,
it will be your life.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 28, 2019