Tag Archives: spirituality

This kind of changing

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You are not asked
to be more than what you are
but you are asked
to understand yourself

You are not asked
to make yourself be anything
but you are asked
to know your maker

This quiet standing
through what might feel like changes
will deliver you, after a while
to where the you you wished to be
is really who you have been all along

This kind of changing
where you could say
you actually did nothing
is what will save you,
this kind of changing
will win your day.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 3, 2017

Still small voice

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I was asking you to go
to that still point
where there was no argument,
where the raging anguish
that roared at the surface
was unheard,
where the tumbling waves above
could only relay
a small tremor,
just at your heel

I felt like instead
I was just shouting
against the din,
so I considered:
my tiny voice
will never be
the still small one
that moves the mountains
but you have a voice within
and it is speaking.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 5, 2017

The Physics of Innocence

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This is the physics of innocence,
the way no harm can attach
to one whose only impulse
is the call of life

Life calls to life
and life answers
in that quickened attention
that runs circles around the moments
even as the gaze holds steady,
connection a constant discovery,
oneness a revelation

The physics of innocence
is how we all fit
into the same song —
we find the harmony
and are glad.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 4, 2017

Spirit-filled

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You could see how
the Spirit might take
any one of them,
how they would be filled out,
would take shape
from the rushing power
that formed them from within

You might notice
how they really never
were anything else, how they are
maybe not so much Spirit-filled
as Spirit comprised,
maybe the most joyful
the less they hold onto
the thought of being the envelope,
the more they embrace Spirit
as their very essence.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 3, 2017

Step by Step

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Well, it seems it’s still important
to be patient with myself,
to count the little victories
of smoothing of emotions,
the lessening
of all the old reactions
and a quicker rebound
when I fall

It seems I don’t get to suddenly
transcend my former self,
don’t get to be made new
all at once

It comes in flashes,
and they may grow more frequent,
may stretch out into longer stands of light.
Part of the learning
is equilibrium
and loving even what I leave behind.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 23, 2017

Treasures

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The treasures of the true world,
the harmony, the peace, the immortality,
can’t be taken back
into the false world

You can’t adorn yourself with them
to raise your status, can’t teach them
to those you peg as fools.
They are, in fact, as useless there
as sun sparkles, for paying off of debts

The treasures of the true world
must be enjoyed right where they are.
There’s no need to go back anyway —
why not stay
in the consciousness of omnipresent good?

©Wendy Mulhern
June 3, 2017

Matters

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Black lives matter,
and fair contribution matters,
and mending and cleaning and sorting matter

And underneath all the matter
is the current of Spirit
that doesn’t even need to get involved
in all that tortuous stitching,
full, as it is, of its own surging intricacy,
its fractally multiplying joy,
its amnesty for all.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 15, 2017

photo by Edward Mulhern

Gadarene

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A herd of swine
may run violently down a hill.
This is not a strange occurrence —
it happens all the time,
betrayal hard on the heels of betrayal,
blame hard on the heels of blame,
all those justifications, all those
indignant and disappointing stories
following each other to their
collective destruction

What’s wonderful, and what may seem miraculous
is what remains when all the herd is gone,
the beatific peace
that was your essence all along,
ultimate justice, fruit of an act
that’s truly kind,
to sit now clothed and quiet
in your right mind.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 12, 2017

House of Sticks

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I don’t want to spend more time
in the house of sticks
with its rickety stilts
sticking down into the river,
not enough integrity to be a boat
and so required to constantly
resist the flow

I don’t want to rely
upon its chinks and weaknesses
to let the flashing light into my vision
(its shaking makes the roaring current fearsome)

Don’t want to be
the victim of its fall,
pierced with broken points,
toppled in rigidity

I want to slip free,
lower myself gently
into the coursing brightness
and glide.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 9, 2017