Tag Archives: story

One Tribe

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We are all one tribe
Anything that says otherwise
is the old story
that we have been told
that we have believed
that we have enacted
But never
has it been true
And the dawning
of that realization
moment by moment
like sheaths slowly dropping
from flowers emerging
Will bring all the brightness forth
Colors and fragrance
and fresh interaction
Bountiful blooming
of deep satisfaction
What we have longed for
not knowing it’s possible
One tribe uniting —
Reunion of song.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 30, 2012





Monday, downtown

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Monday Downtown (background music: Isaac Shepard “Before Dawn”)


Oh, humanity!
Working at your tired charades
Moving through so many empty boxes
Desiccated corridors
Courses without meaning

Look how amazing you are!
Look how, even when the rules are cast
to close out any purpose, light or joy
You still find ways to shine:
Within this skewed account of life
your light slips through the chinks
and though at times refracted
blazes forth
Makes us maybe take a while to notice
all the places where it is suppressed
Just think: if we were free
what brilliance we would show

It is our destiny
We will prevail
We will shine clear
We’ll banish all the false demands
The failed array of hoops, constrictive bands
Deny the faulty purposes
that disappointed us
Swing free
on the strength of our unstoppable
creative rush!

©Wendy Mulhern
March 19, 2012


City of Illusion

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I realize it’s been a while
that I’ve been walking through a mist
thick with projected images
nothing I can touch
I walk right through them
What I reach to grasp
stays where it is, my hand closes
on empty space, my own fingers—
nothing more.  And yet my feet
find purchase, there is gravity
I can close my eyes and move my feet
and tell by touch and weight
what’s here that’s real
And I can sink into the solidness
of that which satisfies
and by persistent practice
retrain my eyes
and find a way to make my vision clear —
to focus on the things that really are.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 15, 2012


Waking up is hard to do

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Waking up is hard to do
Not only in the so-called morning
in the shuffle of avoiding
the pre-dawn alarm

Breaking an illusion takes
intensity of focus
and a steady concentration
and a willingness to shift
and notice:

What I thought was solid ground
is not
And where I thought I stood
I really wasn’t
And all that I was sure was real
All that I’d strung my hopes across
has never been what held me up at all

What I am, and what I’m standing on
is something else.  It has a different gravity
It follows different laws.
The brightness of awakeness overcomes the force
of every predetermined lockstep course
and every limitation we surmise
that drains the light and laughter from our eyes

Standing up for light
may be a struggle
Waking up is hard to do
but worth the trouble.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 14, 2012


Shelter

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A house of cards
A house of straw
A house of words
What gravitas can they afford?

A bold, invented self
Or even one that hides
And only tells itself its little stories
How can it feed the hunger of my soul?

I’m rendered quiet
I don’t even have two cards
To lean against each other
No straw that isn’t old and wet and mildewed
No words to form a self-respecting cover

So I go and dance
I build my house of arcs of reaching arms
And light that flows between each darting glance
All filled with music and the moment’s charms

And if my gesture shelters someone else
And gathers others as its moves unfold
I, too, will find a shelter for myself
In that sweet harmony
The dance can hold.


©Wendy Mulhern
February 15, 2012



Idols

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Winds of Spirit
Sweep my thought
It’s time to cast out idols
Those who ask for time
Those who ask for blood
Those who ask for tiresome daily ritual
Who say they have the power
to save my sorry life
or, if I fail to worship,
occasion my demise

But they know nothing, and their mouths can’t speak
The life they offer is anemic, weak
And Spirit shows me, right here, what I am
Exposing all their noxious threats as sham

I will not worship
the god of appearances
I will not worship
the god of social norms
I will not worship
the god of shopping bargains
I will not worship
the god of health concerns

Winds of Spirit, sweep my soul
for I am made to worship 
what is true and whole
That frames the space for all that’s free and wild
And holds us each as Life’s untrammeled child.


©Wendy Mulhern
February 6, 2012

(background music: Max Richter, “Haunted Ocean”)

Waltz Time

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I was dancing with my darling
The night they were playing
That beautiful Tennessee Waltz
And you know how it goes
Well, we stepped on some toes
But we’re certain it wasn’t our faults.

For we swung round and round
Round and round, round and round
Till the ceiling spun into the walls
And though we heard people swear
As we crashed here and there
We hardly even noticed their falls.

I was dancing with my darling
The night they were playing
That beautiful Tennessee Waltz
Till they cleared off the floor
And showed us the door
And brought all our fun to a halt(z).


©Wendy Mulhern
Spring, 2009



Sand Castle

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Look how it falls
Ponderous
Turning and sinking
Its shapes tipping at wild angles
Before dissolving
Its fall as inevitable
As its standing seemed to be
No loftiness of spires
Escapes the sliding from beneath
As sand surrenders to the slip of water
No damp cohesion remains
Each grain in its communion
With the overwhelming sea
Suspended, so released
From past alliances
So little shift of tide it takes
To wash away the structure
And its memory
And leave a shining mirror
On the shore.


©Wendy Mulhern
January 24, 2012



Perception Play

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The picture splinters
Goes kaleidoscopic
Gyrates sixfold
Glinting shards
Triangulated scenes
Reflected in converging mirrors
Too dazzling for clarity.

Turn the scope around
Let the edges melt
Let the bright refraction soften
Let sweet tears wash all the scenes
And then
Hold the scope back up
And look again.  


©Wendy Mulhern
December 10, 2011