Take me in to the heart of things —
I will pay the price,
I will leave behind
whatever doesn’t fit.
I will pay it daily
so I can enter empty,
ready to respond,
ready to be filled.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 19, 2018
Heart
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Tag Archives: life
Dance, again
After long neglect
the music, when invited,
still fills my form,
the dance still transports me
I feel it like spring sap rising,
like sun on bark, on skin.
It reminds me what it’s like
to know I am alive,
to be something more
than a thing described,
or a role, or one who waits —
It reminds me how life defines itself
fresh in each moment,
new in each breath.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 7, 2018
Sustenance
We will go in the strength of
what fills us with our sense of presence,
what gives us grace, what affirms
the I Am that courses through us,
waking up everything, thrilling us
with the warble of life,
the power where we are.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 3, 2018
Orange Line
And if the train cars
pass through a shadow,
its shape rolling undisturbed
across each clump of passengers,
if the train rattles through light and darkness
clattering to a stop at the stations
and the passengers are unconcerned
by the shifting light
So may my course be,
and let me sway with the turns and the clatters,
unconcerned by what we pass through
on the way to our destination.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 11, 2018
These moments
These moments, these dream moments,
are given to love, the kaleidoscopic
ever-brilliant unfolding
of renewed patterns
of care, of blessing,
of being there
in the blooming
of unexpected mutual delight
These moments, these waking moments,
are the same, the landscape
in which they emerge
as malleable as those in dream,
past, present, future
sliding into meek alignment
with Love’s imperative.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 5, 2018
The Easy Life
The little fire
takes a while
to make us warm
Outside, today,
the cold north wind celebrated
the bright sun, whipping and chafing us
as we ignored hunger, and tiredness,
racing to keep ahead
of the rumbling rock work
So we discover
there is a sustenance beyond
the formulas for comfort,
there is joy out on the edges,
there’s a rich reward,
a great expansion that we find
as we’re delivered
from the easy life.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 13, 2018
Spirited
Here on the ground
the days are still painted
with enough grace
to fill any heart that’s present
We may not be flying
in the way we sense we someday will,
but we can feel high
in the confluence of skill and opportunity,
of character and connection,
of sun and scent and wind
and the myriad gifts of the hour.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 8, 2018
Notes from Today
Ravens converse, traversing the valley,
clouds converge, crossing the sky,
in the close stillness of here and now
many things live hidden
A mind can be populated by opinions —
eyes look out, see only
what is set upon their curtains,
whole worlds can roll by unseen
but veils are sometimes lifted
The industry of mice, the vibrancy
of every effort creatures make
to be themselves, to thrive,
points to the uncounted ever-presence
resting, firm and gentle, on our days
Sun will grace us all —
no blinds, ultimately, close off our vision.
We will see the opening of comprehension
of how we’re woven, tenderly,
into our place.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 4, 2018
Living
Ease your heart —
courage forms
in the pools
of thirst-quenching soulfulness
You can immerse yourself
and feel your movements deepen.
There is no need
to be shallow,
no need
to hold yourself back
Feel the full stroke,
the powerful surge
of being the beloved
of the infinite.
This is where you hit your stride,
this is you, living.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 18, 2018
Plunge
We have moved from the place
of hopeful milling about,
of waiting liquid at the lip
of some great movement
(the general goodwill of our presence
bright enough to make us feel at one)
Almost unthinking, we have plunged
along the run life set for us —
maybe we thought it was a choice,
perhaps we only noticed
by the coursing of our fluids,
by the pounding force
of that which bore us,
that, indeed, we’ve moved along
And that the quiet pool
in which we hoped and waited
(and chafed at our incompetence
to stir it up)
will not be seeing us again
for a long time
Who knows where all the others are
and where their rapids bear them
and if we’ll meet again,
changed and unchanged
at the waiting sea?
©Wendy Mulhern
January 1, 2018