We couldn’t believe in darkness
because there is always some light somewhere —
the soft reflection of moonlight,
far stars, and nearer lanterns,
the dream light that dances behind eyes
before and during sleep,
and inevitable morning
that eventually rises
even after the longest night.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 21, 2017
Close to the source
of heat and cold,
close to the source of being —
stars at night, pens that don’t write
as temperatures dip below freezing
_____________________
Whichever direction we stretch
we draw more surely
into the circle of purpose —
we are here to be warm,
we are here to share light
and we are here to be
the great testimony
to joy, and to the insistence of life
on burning ever true,
the flame that glows and grows
and won’t consume.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 15, 2017
I start to define myself
by the lines of light streaming through,
I start to feel their lift, their strength,
and to be less impressed by clay
If Mind doesn’t hold me here,
what ever could? What, possibly,
except idea, could hold this form in place?
What but Mind could let me move
in grace, and with intention?
Look at me dancing —
look how the music lifts and moves me.
Surely it is clear
that I am made of lines of light
for clay could never move me,
clay could never move like that.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 11, 2017
More than anything —
more than acceptance,
more than approval,
more than a celebrated place
among the ones who set the scenes,
more than owning all my space and time,
I want to hear the voice of truth within
Because even though at first
it seems a tiny hairline crack,
barely enough
to be seen in darkness,
it quickly opens
and proves to be everything —
turning the whole scene inside out,
filling my world with light.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 9, 2017
I come again to feel the need
for that gentle lift
along the strings of my being,
straightening essential lines,
untangling the twists
and places things have fallen
topsy turvy
I need to feel the breath of light
that courses through the strings,
that gives them strength and vibrancy
and sets them in alignment
This is the love touch I desire —
the one that knows the order
of all the threads of me,
the one that sees me whole
and sets me there, lit up from within,
clear channeled, free.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 24, 2017
One day you find yourself held
in the shine that lets you
be as you envisioned you could be,
suddenly strong enough to wield
the needed tools, precision locked in,
clarity of mind
In a rush, you are riding a wave —
the power of you, bearing you up,
the surge of joy, to be so carried
as if it were a force outside yourself
delivering this lift
You will seek this shine again.
You will look for places
where it might happen,
seek out the people
who witnessed it with you,
come back to tasks which,
in doing them, you felt it —
It may not be easy to find,
but knowing it’s there,
you’ll keep looking.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 23, 2017
For awhile, it’s important
to get our stories straight,
to open out the crushed frames
to let the wind and light
flow through our sense of self
Later, as the light grows stronger,
the particular grids of our stories
become less relevant,
overwhelmed, as they are,
by what streams through the spaces
as we shift our sense of self
away from the lines
into the brightness of being.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 13, 2017
Eclipse is come and gone
and what I have to show for it
is some hours of easy friendship
and some moments in the sun,
a touch of coolness, but no more darkness
than the bright and dark of clouds in half the sky
— kids surprised to hear that it was over
I turn my focus
to the light that can’t be dampened,
can’t be obstructed,
can’t be snuffed out,
I turn my gaze
to the light that lights up light,
that shows me
where I am today.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 22, 2017
The light keeps brightening
as we remove the layers —
what once was dim and fickle
becomes a stronger flicker,
becomes a steady glow,
becomes a blaze
We will drink this light
like flowing water,
we will be borne
in its currents,
we will rise like bubbles,
all that we thought defined us
fully forgotten
in our daily learning,
in our daily flight.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 29, 2017
Every one of them, it was said,
has their drug. Once they taste it,
they’ll go to great extremes
to get their next fix.
They’ll feel the promise of that
rush of aliveness, they’ll crave
the affirmation that seems
so certain to be felt
as they receive, once more,
the dearly sought elixir
Every one of them, it was said,
can be roped in just like that,
can be controlled, can be enslaved . . .
They didn’t reckon on
the dawning recognition
of the light that saturates everything,
that satisfies everyone’s desire.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 26, 2017