Flow

mountains from plane

Perceptions loosen, floes flow,
rigid edges bump against each other
and fall off, shapes get rounded,
constructs that were solid
become dislodged,
where there was certainty,
the questions form

There is a current coursing underneath,
pulling everything towards the source.
There may be grinding creaking,
there may be logjams,
and signs of overwhelming force

Don’t be afraid.
You’ll find a suppleness
replacing former hardened forms,
you’ll find a truth that doesn’t count on stasis,
and an identity that doesn’t bow to norms

You’ll find yourself
finding yourself fluid,
define yourself in how you learn to move.
What must melt and break
will do so
as you approach the subtle, steady truth.

©Wendy Mulhern
July 27, 2016

What Holds Your Treasure

mill creek reflection

What treasures can you hold in your hands
as the dream dissolves
(the dream of your hands,
along with what they hold)
Where is the place you can put
something you have loved so deeply?
What can you bring
into the next place?

What holds your treasure
is more substantial than hands,
more lasting than memory,
more true than time

You’ll find it,
though it may be dispersed,
(so many light points to the reflections
in moving water)
It may take a while
to find its name again,
but its love will leap back to you,
jump into your arms
like it never left.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 28, 2016

Interruptions

green lake partly cloudy

Rain beats down
in interruption of
the fleeting sun,
sun in its brief windows
interrupts the rain,
sleep interrupts thought,
thought interrupts sleep,
anxiety about our course
interrupts excitement

We will smooth it over,
we will fill our moments
with enough learning
that we don’t have time
for gaps of panic,
and the places between the doing
we’ll fill with hope.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 27, 2016

Transition

road and puddle

These days,
I’m feeling like a loose tooth —
I bite into my days
with a wobble

Some days I don’t know
what I’ll do to fill them.
Some are so packed with purpose
I have no time
to think of what I’ll do.
I feel fuller after the filled-up days

As for the emptier ones,
the stuff I might pull into them
can feel like dust, like rubble —
things I may have wanted
now having no connection
to the new life
I haven’t quite stepped into.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 22, 2016

The Gate

gate

Sucked or stumbling
through the gate,
it takes a while to notice
the steady wind
and how our feet were made
to walk upon it

Our stature fills
and we stride across the landscape,
our footsteps establishing
primal order, our hands
putting everything right

We have been here
longer than we could have dreamed.
We will continue this stride
clothed in potent currents,
sure in our steps,
knowing each truth
just as we need to know it,
on our eternal rounds.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 12, 2015

Away

dandelions

The dandelion seeds
nestle in soft fluff for a day
before they stiffen enough
(though still soft)
to be ready

Then the mother flower reopens
and the air ruffles their fuzz-tops
and they start to realize
in this time
they belong to this air
and they will leave
(impossible as it seemed the day before)

Their contact will loosen —
they will no longer be
part of this unity,
they will be singular
and the wind
will take them away

Not this instant,
not at a predictable time
but inevitably
they will be borne
into the greater whole.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 10, 2015