The feeling itself is real
even if the players that enacted it
were false, or were ephemeral
and dissolved in the distractions of the moment
like bubbles in the wind
The power itself is real
even if the constructs that occasioned it
or that you hope will do so
are nowhere to be found
Love is its own substance —
it may flow through these things
but it doesn’t need any of them.
Love is its own creator
and it is Love which is creating us.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 10, 2018
The magnitude of this redemption
is that it glows through all time
even as dawn
glows through all our space,
even as the radiance of love
makes everything alright,
even our history.
Any fears and sorrows that lurked there
are resolved,
for truth’s appearance
alters the past
as surely as it does the present
As for the future —
what will we know of it?
— when we are so rapt
in the presence
of unfolding day.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 30, 2017
Nobody’s life has meaning
except for the shine,
except for the treasure
inherent in each breath,
each moment,
except for the purpose embodied
in the reasonless love,
the unquenched presence,
the truth that is always here.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 19, 2017
Kindness kindles us,
catches us up in the merry
rush of flames
running eagerly down the lines
of what we sensed we might be,
igniting inspiration, engendering
great leaps of joy
Kindness will spread
and in its warmth
each of us will know what we’re here for,
each of us will bring heat.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 14, 2017
Our hearts melt,
run out from the crude ore,
pool brightly, like with like
In this response
we know their essence —
this love so quickly moved
to love — this shows their mettle
and purifies their substance —
the more they love,
the greater their radiance.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 29, 2017
We move off from the place of focus
like crowds dispersing when the show is done —
our thoughts linger, wander, mill,
look for some remaining meaning
There are things we take with us
like small gifts tucked in pockets
to look at later in a quiet moment
Not sure what to do next
we feel the lightness
and the layered weight
of what we witnessed,
what we learned
All the while our love
moves into the spaces
ready to show us
as we emerge
how to make sense of it all.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 28, 2017
We might have wished our children
no pain, but each emotion is a gift
and the fact that they can feel
is testament to who they are
If they can cry
the garden of their life will bloom,
they will have
bright shining after rain,
they will have
deep canyons where their love
carved out spaces
for winds of compassion
to sing through
They will have birds nesting
and creeks running,
frogs and fish and mayflies —
they will have true life,
they will know joy.
©Wendy Mulhern
October 26, 2017
You speak of receiving —
Receive this: you are beloved.
Spirit is not indifferent
to your being. You are as prized
as Spirit is to itself —
breath of being,
delight and excitement
in this present living of you,
exactly you.
Spirit is not indifferent
to that which shines its essence.
It can’t forsake you
anymore than you
could forsake your breath.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 10, 2017
Touch teaches tenderness,
teaches bones to soften their approach,
teaches the curl of the snuggle that,
coming in close and quick,
still doesn’t crash
Touch teaches affection
regardless of intent —
even mundane creature care
(diapers and washing)
leaves a connection that lingers
after the touch is released
My cerebral world taught me
the mind must decide first
if touch has been earned, is permitted,
but now my helping arms have learned
touch doesn’t need a reason.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 9, 2017
In the new light
in which I see myself,
there’s no more room
for grudging thoughts —
(grudging acceptance,
grudging allowance
for the needs and presence
of another)
I am not justified
in seeing anyone
with something less than love
This is, after all,
my whole being. I have no presence
except the presence of my love.
No point in striving
for some other goal —
only in loving
am I whole.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 8, 2017