Tag Archives: inspiration

A Pause

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At the beginning of December, I stopped writing poems. I did so to step back from a layer of ego and deepen my spiritual practice.

So far this is working for me.

I started my poem-a-day practice 12 years ago. Since then I have published over 3800 poems on my blog, and published ten books of poetry. I found the practice served to increase my perception and focus my honesty. The almost daily poems provide a chronicle of my life journey and learnings through that time. And I love writing poetry!

During this period when I am not writing, I encourage you to use the search feature of my blog to find poems of interest, or explore the chain of related poems as curated by WordPress at the bottom of each poem. As always, I love to hear from you – I receive notification when you comment on my poems, and will respond. Or you can send me email at wmulhern@gmail.com

I wish you all a beautiful unfolding of your spiritual journey, and a growing love for the nature that accompanies us and the people that deepen us –

with love,
Wendy Mulhern

Unscripted

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Scripts breed uncertainty  –
so many times to encounter divergence
of what is described
and what I’m observing

And scripts can themselves be uncertain,
sketched in impressions
from half-heard pronouncements,
guessed implications
from things I can’t ask about,
lest I admit I don’t know

And so I’m approaching unscripted,
open to see what the moment requires,
hoping my trust and respect are accepted,
praying my moves be inspired.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 29, 2023

To my inspiration

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I will trust you to be there
in the morning, after the washing clear
of all the wear lines of the day,
after dreams have danced in water-like dimension
through the fluidity that wipes it all away

Somewhere in that time
well before sunrise,
when we awake and start
our pre-departure gatherings,
I trust that you will tuck yourself
like hope, into some pocket,
to lift me, later on,
to be my dawn.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 13, 2019

Fade

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water glimmer

First there is the light
and then there’s the
trying to remember

For awhile the whole blaze
can be invoked in memory
and there are various
tricks to try to do so

Then there’s the gleam,
a light that’s still real
but indirect, and there’s
the gazing at it, trying to think
if that’s the thing
we saw before,
if that’s the light that dazzled us

And it doesn’t seem quite the same
along the shining stones
but the essence is right.

We start to ask,
did we ever see it
as something more?
We try to re-engage
but ultimately
it will take a new dose of sun,
liquid reflected,
to kindle that first brightness once again.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 26, 2016

Inspiration

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lagoon dawn2

The water becomes wine
as induction into
what was dearly sought
and only known
through dim translucencies

What would it mean henceforth
to see the light without the medium
of lantern panes, without
the coloration and diffusion?

How would it feel for that elixir
to well up from within?
For that soft glow to which
we’ve dedicated all our earthly efforts
to be the very center of our being?
What would that change? Certainly
the things we do with thought, with time

Then let us drink that wine
and raise our hands and eyes,
let the shine
that now reveals itself as us
illumine and align
all our endeavors

Let us walk out
into the common square,
let us look
and recognize each other there.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 2, 2016

Artesian

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Winter trees, Discovery Park

When I’m still,
and ask for it,
the inspiration comes up swift,
quick welling from the deepest pools within me,
sudden flowing, as if struck from rock

But truly
relying on catchment —
all the collected liquid
from the upper hills
coalescing down, bubbling out,

Clearly not a thing conjured
with tricks of thought,
clearly testament to my context,
to the terrain in which I rise,
natural as weeds, as springs,
as love,
from every cradling crevice.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 10, 2016

Squiggle

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flying sky

I search for inspiration
and see the bright image squiggle,
naked as a sunbeam,
upward and out of grasp

except my mind
is its medium,
so it can’t escape —
it can only
open out my sight
to where I see it
blending like heat rising,
releasing its radiance
into a greater shimmer,
bringing me there with it,
breathing the broad freedom
of communion.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 23, 2015