Sometimes the extent of
what doesn’t matter in the least —
doesn’t matter anymore or never did —
seems ready to drown me
So far removed these tracks have gone
from anything that nourishes,
any reason anyone could see
to go and do it for another day
And yet the gleams of what’s precious
shine out somehow, from every moving being —
May that light grow stronger from within
and guide them, guide us —
all along our homeward way.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 22, 2018
What will you do with this?
Mothers — take it, use it to love your children
even more than you have before,
Fathers, use it as a way
to deepen grace, to find your footing
in the place where your nobility
touches ground
Brothers, sisters, friends —
use this to remember
how tender and how tensile
is your connection to each other,
how paramount it is
to keep these ties
awake in your heart
All of you — take this bright gift,
this strong release of light,
this nourishment of life —
use it to celebrate
our common source
and the fountain of our days.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 2, 2018
Light rests on every life,
a gentle touch, a lifting breeze,
present reminder
of what makes our spirits rise
It shines amidst the bustle —
Whether noticed or ignored,
it is still there, and everyone
can feel it. Eventually, their inward light
will insist, and they will look up.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 21, 2018
You, too, will find yourself illumined,
fuzzy new edges full of light,
the growth within unstoppable,
though spring may seem to stumble,
Your essence pushing out
to meet the reaching day,
the thin wall between inner and outer light
tingling in anticipation,
incipient transformation.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 8, 2018
Follow the path of innocence
down to where it is sweetest —
honey-light pure, bright as laughter.
We can use this essence
for many things, I think —
we can use it to hold things together,
we can use it to heal ourselves.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 25, 2018
Light makes its own course
along the walls and through the windows,
drapes itself in shadow,
caresses surfaces
Reflections, bright and subtle,
dance back along its path,
celebrating presence.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 18, 2018
There is no way
(boxes within boxes,
sea bottom, barnacles)
you can close off
the deep bright light within you
(white brilliance, color sparkles)
no way you can keep it
from burning through all the barriers,
no way they can stop it
from claiming its source and home
in the infinite light it is one with,
the ever luminescent truth.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 10, 2018
Here where we’re all trying
to find the point of clarity
where understanding crests the moment
like rays of dawn
Here where we’re trying
to find that one focus
that burns through all the layers
of middling plausibility
to be the one imperative
defining us
Here we will receive
the incremental wage
that comes from steady effort.
Imperceptibly, our views will clear
until at last we notice
we’re no longer waiting
for that brilliant flash —
we’ll find ourselves here
already gently pooled in light.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 5, 2018
I like the suspended feeling
of early evening
when my reflection merges
with the yard outside —
I take form among the shrubs,
a tree grows out of the piano
The rain drips down outside,
inside, the heater clicks,
the refrigerator sings
Yesterday, in the reflection
of the back door through the front window,
I saw my husband appear
in the space that had framed
the oak across the street
but could also project
a ghostly image
of someone in the back yard.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 1, 2018
There is no one who is not affected.
There is no one who is not lit up
(though comprehending a light that casts no shadows
may take time)
You can feel it radiate through your fur,
all the way to your skin,
you can feel it in your lungs like flight,
in your throat like fire
coming up from embers that lie deep within,
fueled by ever-quickening desire
It makes no sense, after this,
to go on as if there were a path laid out,
it makes no sense to follow
former modes of measurement
The roar this light ignites
will burn through everything that lied about us,
we will be seen as we will see —
all things new.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 2, 2018