Still Point

A place you might choose
to be by yourself,
a place of quiet, and of soaring
feasts for the eyes,
a place you might be still
until you feel
the source streams that connect you  –
how their energy
holds you up straight,
gives you the power to move

You shift into
deeper awareness of their constancy,
how you can move now
strongly and with certainty

No step alone
but fully in the flowing
of this dynamic life
which is your being,
and why you’re here.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 3, 2023

Motes

Long after dark, as night drifts on,
I wait for motes to settle,
but they don’t, they float –
what do they know of gravity?

I sink deeper into myself,
beneath the weighting of importance  –
everything is equal here,
everything is loved

And nothing that aspired to dominate
can touch any of this –
its motion and its stillness
are undisturbed

What holds them here
stays close around them,
cushions their essence
in perfect peace.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 26, 2023

Music

Every tone that waits to chime
in the hollow of its time,
the perfect silence, opening
to give it space, to let it ring

Every voice that waits to sing
into the perfect listening,
the heart that hears, and tucks the song
where it can echo, sweet and long

All sounds, received, so find their rest,
a still point of their own,
the consummation of their quest,
the hum in which they’re known.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 21, 2022

The law of stillness

We come into the true place
and it doesn’t matter
what brought us here –
if it was time, if it was tragedy

There may be a sea of lies,
shifting calculations unanchored
in anything,  grabbing at
what is so in flux
you can’t get your hands on it,
while others contrive to be masters of currents,
controlling events from afar

But seas will pass away,
and none of that know how
turns out to be wisdom.
We keep putting our anchor down,
keep grappling for what’s true

Until finally, by the law of stillness,
we will find
that we are deeply settled,
that we have been here all along.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 8, 2021

Shifting

There was movement everywhere
but presence was defined
by stillness,
a translucency
whose glow was seen
between the arcs and threads,
between the strides,
between the branches

There was music ringing out
from deep within the silence,
what seemed dark
becoming clear
in the sheen of rolling curve

We turned our focus
from what we thought defined us
to what was underneath,
to what has been here all along.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 25, 2019