Tag Archives: identity

What does your heart want?

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What does your heart want?
This one thing you can answer
without words, without posture,
without a sense of needing to be right

What your heart wants now
is how you’ll know
what to do. No definitions of yourself,
based on observations or conjectures
or the self-filtered opinions of your fellows,
have any clue

What does your heart want?
When asked, your heart will answer
in the impulse of a movement,
in the wisdom of the moment
and you’ll know yourself
by following its truth.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 17, 2014

Trusted

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We will ride home
across golden meadows,
the gracious sun glowing at our coming,
our shadows stretching royal
along the welcome road;
We will ride home
supported by the very air,
caressed by the attending breeze.

We have done well,
as was decreed at our creating;
we have been
exactly as we were intended.
This fulfillment
comes from something higher
than our forms can comprehend,
this victory
our creator’s gift to us
of the particulars
of our design

We will ride home
as was written and is now enacted,
in the rich ease of being trusted.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 2, 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


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


Magical

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Well, the fact is,
we are magical.
All of us.
And we will see it
in any medium we engage with —
clay or iron or words,
seed or song or smiles —
Each will yield its magic
in response to ours

And the voice that scoffed,
“Be real,” was just the screech
of chains, the wing-clipping 
croak of bondage and despair.
It holds no place
in our right mind.

It is befitting
that we bring magic
to all we do,
that we call forth
profound cooperation,
hitherto unseen gifts
from what we work with,
that we be magical.
It is the secret key of wisdom,
forged in love,
and it is real.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 19, 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


“To walk, by right, on the naked hills”

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The great slow-motion bounce,
accompanied by the long-sustained
expanding chord,
Captures the triumph of the forces,
the extended harmony
where everything follows
the line of intention,
Waves undulating, weaving through waves . . .

And we love the unweighting
and the sinking down
and the pressing in
and the bounding up —

Some who know
call it walking with God,
Tuning the edge of awareness,
where joy is the treasure
born of connection,
the only thing that feeds us,
the only thing we’ve sought —

A knowledge that will always rise
from the essence of our being,
that can’t remain concealed,
as it’s so thoroughly written
in the law of everything we are.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 15, 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


Biodiversity

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Some seeds won’t sprout
in these conditions —
they’ll wait dormant
till things change,
and then, as saviors,
as tiny carriers of daring hope
of life’s return,
they’ll spring up, set their leaves,
and thrive

There may be parts of you
that haven’t sprouted,
and you may have wondered why —
perhaps you’ve doubted
life’s provision, or life’s wisdom,

But things may change
and suddenly you’ll find
a capability you never nurtured,
rising strong, growing apace
with all the needs of now,
blessing you, blessing everyone.

There’s room for all of your potential,
and it’s needed.
In its time
each gift will shine.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 10, 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