Influence

two fallen leaves

Let’s talk about
silence
Let’s let the rain
do the talking for us
(tapping patter and the rush of rivulets)
Let’s consider
that no raindrop
does the falling of another

It is not my job
to influence, persuade,
not my work
to make assessments,
Not even mine
to set examples
(thinking that they really should be followed)

Mine, instead, to notice
and to magnify
that which rises freely
from its own reception
of the blessed touch of thought,
that which drops unerring
into its own purpose,
from its own source.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 14, 2015

Baby Steps

rivulet

And if we must begin again,
let us take the care to do it right —
Let us take each breath with love,
let us delight
in the extraordinary quality,
the singularity
of this divine and precious entity

Let us lay a foundation
of reliable support,
let us be clear
how much we, too, are blessed
by this relationship

Let us let her own source
unfold her nature,
true as it’s always been,
fully empowered,
at every moment able
(even now)
to bring her blissful splendor
into light.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 24, 2015

Resolution

storms

I will not be shamed
but I will be humbled,
I will notice
what I have failed to see

I will not use it
to condemn myself,
I will use it to remind myself
that I am free

And as a free being
I don’t ever need
to host a view that fails
to reverence another.
I will not be witness
to any failing on their part,
I will witness
the strong truth that holds them steady

deeper than any shifting clouds of personality,
deeper than time,
deep as Mind.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 22, 2015

Mourning Time

Oak Bluffs sunrise

I need the blessing
for those that mourn.
I mourn for something nameless
that cries in you
but won’t explain itself

I mourn for the chasm,
for the absent bridge,
I mourn for anything
I might have done or failed to do
to close the gap or span it,
I mourn the self-fulfillment
of a persistent dread

This healing is not
something I can do by sleight of thought.
This healing requires something ancient, timeless‚
the truth about you and me
that existed
before the world was framed,
the love that asserts itself,
flooding out the lie of pain.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 16, 2015

Making Sense

dark waves

I try to make sense of things,
I weary of mazes,
My mind keeps running them anyway —
What someone might have thought,
What I did and said, and still could say
I let it go
I pick it up again

Must be a cultural chasm
with no good way to understand —
There can be several explanations
all of which make someone wrong,

There must be some way
to put my mind at rest —
I try to gather us,
I try to see us all as blessed

It comes in moments
It comes in images I feel
Where I’m empowered,
Where I can fly with what is real,
Where I can swoop along the shimmers
on the rising face of waves
And I can see the way we can connect

Not in negotiations, expectations,
Not in how our lives should intersect,
Not in what we owe or what we earn
but in the sense of home
to which we all return.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 13, 2014

Here is my love

clouds from deck

Here is my love
that doesn’t cling
that doesn’t slide around its objects
to the dark side

that doesn’t grasp
that doesn’t weigh them down
or take up residence within their forms
as jealousy, possession

Here is my love
that must stay love
— all light —
illuming and infusing everything
and never changing —

Light as these wing tips
poised on the edge of that taut span
that masters flight,
poised to guide my actions
in the nuance
of the sweet embrace
of all that shimmers
and all that waits to shine.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 11, 2014

Battleground

regret-battle

I’ve been doing battle with you
all day, in my mind.
I force myself to stop
and then I notice
I’ve been at it again

I don’t want to fight this battle —
I want it to turn out to be
a non-issue, want to find
that an inner voice
has whispered to you softly,
convinced you in a way I never could

I want to pay attention
to my own battle,
where I need to stand up
against insinuations
that I could be justified
in thinking I am right and you are wrong,

since in the final resolution,
when my mind picture of you
sees you innocent,
I won’t need to fight with you at all.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 6, 2014

Melting Ice

feet above water

 

 

 

 

Our hearts are too warm
for us to wield the spears of ice,
and all our old wounds
will heal after the ice melts

And it won’t matter
if we were wounded
by ourselves or someone else

After the ice
will be the cold water,
the daring plunge —
the lake of self-acceptance —

The water’s fine
once you get used to it
and as it warms up
from your now-rekindled fire.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 5, 2014