Hum of the earth,
web of life —
No need to assert yourself,
no need to fight
against relentless chains
You meld into the strength
of all that holds you —
It will affirm you
without your needing to break anything
It folds you in,
you take your place —
It holds you so true,
all that was false about your life
must fade away
So we return,
so we arrive for the first time,
breathing the ever new
ancient
rhythm of all that is.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 21, 2014
photo by Heather Mulhern
Your clothes don’t matter
in the place where we are all naked
Your habits, your opinions,
your credentials
weigh nothing, when we shed them all
For to bathe in this river
everything but the pure
sweet streaming of you
must be left behind
(or else it will be washed away anyway)
No one wants a piece of you
Nor can you rest on past laurels
Nor need you feel you have no name
to pull the proper recognition
Everyone who dives in
is borne along the bright current
and the river’s song
sings through us all.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 18, 2014
Can’t live someone else’s life
Spirit, you’ve given me this perfect day
Mid August, with some leaves already turning
You’ve given me these shots of joy
Red branches in the tops of trees
You turn my focus outward
Streaks of cloud, streaks of cool
Give directionality to my light
I redefine myself as this flowing
©Wendy Mulhern
August 17, 2014
You and I,
We’re not the tokens
on this game board of dream
that we call life
We’re not the hands
that move the pieces,
We’re not the minds
that move the hands
We are so much more!
We are the whole frame,
the whole sphere,
out to the edge of what we say
our consciousness perceives
We are that presence
and we can govern it —
Not in manipulation
of all the parts
but in surrendering
to that great harmony
that knows and loves completely,
that moves us all.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 14, 2014
The internal call is promised —
There is no one it will not reach.
They will be called from within
by their own truth,
by the imperative of their life,
by the enduring fervency
of their love
They will not stay scattered,
each one thinking
what they are is not enough,
that it’s too much to ask
for their gift to be valued
to the point of being able to sustain
They will no longer close off hope
as if it were a wound,
won’t lose themselves
in efforts to conform
They will be gathered
by the radiance
of everything they are.
It will lead them to the circle
where all the light is magnified
and they are celebrated,
and nothing will be wasted,
and there’s ample room for everyone inside.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 28, 2014
Sacrifices and offering hast thou not required,
but a body hast thou given me
Lo, I come —
Here I am,
delivered, finally
to this purpose
of living love
For which I’ll need
all the ever present angels
to ride with me,
to guide me,
to let me know
in a way that I can feel it
that I am loved,
that I am not alone
But even if I were alone,
this path is too compelling
to abandon —
My strides bear me upward
to new vistas.
I start to remember flying.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 16, 2014
Photo by Heather Mulhern
The divine law
has never sentenced you —
It won’t exact a penalty
of suffering,
It won’t impose a shroud of guilt
or shame,
It never has decreed a world
where you must bow,
a laborer where no one knows your name
The infinite has always celebrated you
in ways no person
can fully comprehend —
Their little glimpses
— the glimpses we call love —
are just a pale reflection
The divine law
has established you
with all your singularity
and all your grace,
Upholds you royal
(just like everyone)
in your exquisite timing,
in your perfect place.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 15, 2014
In the growing, in the harvest,
in the winnowing,
love is the only tool
Life’s circles, and life’s cycles
are respected —
the small rain on the tender herb,
the showers on the grass,
the tares and wheat, side by side
before the harvest,
letting life flow up
from sprout to blade,
from stalk to seed —
All things that are alive
are sheltered, hallowed.
In the time of harvest,
when the seed is finished
and the stalk is done
and the casings have performed
their vital work,
When everything except the seed
grows dry,
Then comes the winnowing
when chaff is blown away,
while all those life-kernels,
protected and aided till they reached fruition,
remain —
Love’s masterwork:
encapsulated power of life
to rise again.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 10, 2014
We can be like angels
and touch each other deeply,
like sunset rays illuminate the clouds,
and feel, like angels,
the shimmering transcendency
that lifts us out of any tortured place
We can move like angels
to be where needed instantly
to give the bright embrace
that fills us up,
and live, like angels
on the nourishment
of blessing as we’re blessed
Yes, we can be like angels,
for this is what was promised us,
and this is what we’re made to do
and this is what we want.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 3, 2014
Any snag
in the loops of dream
can start your liberation
Though the smooth weave
you worked so hard to fashion
is now puckered,
Though gaping holes have opened
in your plans,
Though you feel tripped up, tangled
and abandoned,
Look up, for none of this
is what it seems
This is not the rupture of your good,
This is your revelation.
This is the way out
from your hard and dull pursuits,
This can begin your transformation
Look through —
There is a deeper order
that doesn’t run at odds
with who you long to be,
There’s an awakening
from toilsome drudgery,
There’s a release,
a time you see
There’s no need to go back and make repairs.
You never need to tend that dream again,
for you are free
©Wendy Mulhern
June 30, 2014