My habits of thought
are hard to break
because they keep on coming round
as something new, something reformed,
something ready to look out, from now,
on my brave new future
in which I’m the hero
for having overcome
my former blindnesses
Where what I need instead
is to reach out my hand
and let myself be led
both in the purpose and
in each little step,
resisting the temptation
to be the one who knows,
trusting and following
as my days unfold.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 6, 2018
The aftermath of this momentous shift
has me rethinking
all the well worn habits of my thought,
noticing the places I have drifted,
how my feet don’t seem to quite touch down
The day hums along its course,
people meet and plan —
their life arcs are as perfect
as the cause that runs them.
And what is misaligned
will shift and come together,
smooth or volcanic,
it doesn’t matter
Just like me, just like my finding
that though I crash through pain,
I do not stay there, and everything
that comes to me can be redeemed.
It may take time, but time is not the factor —
it will take place,
it will be all that’s ever been.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 11, 2018
In the way forward
there are no bragging rights,
no carefree membership
in some self-satisfied association
In the way forward
there will be solitude.
In the wilderness of
no one to ask for help
there is a hardening off, a honing,
a time of leanness
and a propelling hunger
Rumor has it
there is great reward on the other side,
that, upon arrival, there will be celebration,
singing. There will be that precious
everyday joy, as well as the special one
of having traversed the chasm
I don’t know anyone here
who knows this from experience.
We shall see.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 2, 2018
Sometimes it feels good
at least to imagine being carried,
at least to act as if the fate of the world
(or my small part of it)
doesn’t depend on the quality
of my thoughts, doesn’t depend on me
And indeed, this may be a key —
to unscrunch my eyebrows
and release the worry entailed
in thinking I have to drive something
so much bigger than I am
Let this be a lesson to me,
that the soaring harmony of spheres
knows how to take care of itself.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 13, 2018
I took down my high wire act
(which, truth to tell, involved mere puppetry)
to stand in this soil
and breathe the air
of humility
It may be a long walk from here,
all along the ridged and valleyed land,
but my feet will learn to know the ground
and be satisfied.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 11, 2018
Open all the doors,
the cupboards, too,
and let the light flood in
And if there is clutter,
I will get rid of it,
cobwebs, I’ll wipe them away
Let there be no place in my mind
anymore, for anything that doesn’t
magnify the light, no place
for excuses, for cause/effect fables,
for anything that’s unclean,
anything that’s not washed by the light.
Let all the contents here be blessed
so I can be a temple of the Most High.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 28, 2018
Now that I have reached
this summit of perception,
let the tides fill in around me —
tides of comfort, tides of peace,
tides of sweet assurance,
so I don’t teeter here upon the point
but can find rest and ease
as the evidence of our eternal goodness
settles in, bearing us all up.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 16, 2018
In these days, our discussion
of things that we have learned
seems more a list
of things we have unlearned,
misconceptions we labored under
being shattered
by life’s happenings,
pictures reconstructed from the shards
assuming strange refractions,
showing different interpretations
We learn not to prescribe, and not to judge,
not to have a monolog
that strives to teach a lesson.
Most of all, not to think
our worth depends on what we do,
and not to think our failings
will make us fail.
©Wendy Mulhern
February 18, 2018
Ok, let me take a moment
to breathe deep, for I will need it
in this dive below the surface.
I will not bypass this opportunity,
I will look clearly
I’ll watch out for signs of shallowness,
of touching down to a false floor.
I won’t harbor fear
by pretending it’s not there
If I am truly fearless,
my movements and my voice
will be powerful —
they will stop things
in the tracks of mindless motion
They will demand
all things that pass by here
to take on the full light
of their own meaning.
They will not let go
until they are transformed.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 13, 2018
There are ways these days
in which I feel older,
the tones of my chords
now including sixes, sevens, nines
There is a darkness on the undersides
where previously unknown fears
have flared and charred,
thereby disarmed,
but taste of fire remains
There is a softness now
to my approach, my certainty
is firmer, but its segments shorter —
I look more humbly for direction,
I take stock sooner
to adjust my course
The memory of dipping into tears
is closer to my eyes
and what I care about
is closer to the surface
but more than ever
runs clear and deep.
©Wendy Mulhern
November 25, 2017