Category Archives: Earth Whispering: Poems

It’s my discipline to write a poem a day, and I post a poem here almost every day. To find a given poem or poems on a given topic, use the search bar at the right. To receive my poems by email, please subscribe, at right.

I’d love to hear your comments on any poems. To comment, click on the little speech bubble just under this text, to the right.

Little Window

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And after the thick of the storm,
like a little blue window
amid the clouds rolling and roiling —
a window that may disappear
many times before the clouds clear
and blue displays its winning infinite —

Somewhere before the dark has fully ended,
that blue window of truth
will give you hope,
and the storm’s narrative
will slowly cease to matter,
its irrelevance apparent as it dissipates,
and you can hold on,
for once you’ve seen it,
you won’t believe in darkness anymore.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 1, 2019

De-Wimpification

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I spent almost a week
like one of those yard ornaments
with no air blowing through it —
flat on the ground, an odd distortion
to its shape

Today I switched the air back on,
sat up, stood, walked with power,
owned my state

…in which condition
I felt much clearer,
less cold, stronger, and able
to face the day and do what’s needed

It’s good to remember
I have this choice —
it’s not my air
but I can turn it on.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 30, 2019

On Falling

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You can’t fall
into the darkness
because your being
is made of light

No gravity affects it,
and even if it could fall
it would bring its essence with it,
lighting up the way and pushing darkness
ever farther off

You can’t fall into darkness
but we can release
any dark presumptions that have tried
with jagged scribbled lines
to draw a ragged image
on your form

We can let them go
and they’ll fall down,
way, way down
where they don’t even have a story,
far away
where they can trouble you no more.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 29, 2019

Following

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This is not a process of grand arcs,
though grand arcs inform it,
this is the way light falls
on every mote, on every crumble
of the soil, the way it sifts
between the needles,
falls to earth in chinks among the shadows

I cannot accomplish it
in one great sweep —
I follow it along the moments,
let the light seep
into every patch of thought it can redeem,
understand it now and now and now
ever new again along my path.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 28, 2019

The shapes are not the light

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If you brought them all together —
all the moments, from many different lives,
where the dream was broken through
and the light poured in —

You would see many different shapes —
a death, a near death, a psychedelic trip,
the answer to a prayer offered
from the very depths,
a gift of life received, the gratitude invoked —

The shapes are not the light.
Light can come through anything.
And what you do with the dream
after seeing the light
is not trivial. There is guidance
to be found, about how this is done,
guidance, and guides,
along the upward way.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 26, 2019

Needed

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All of them needed to know —
needed a way to look up
from their burdened lives,
from their crashed or crushed visions,
the dysphoric drag of suffocating stories,
they needed a better way
to catch a breath
than the scrabbled pushing aside
of some of the worst weights

All of them — the ones thought fortunate
and the ones thought down and out,
needed something more,
needed this —
the bright assurance
welling from within,
the blessed kinship
with all that’s light and lovely,
the solid truth about their royal being,
never held down,
supplying all their needs.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 25, 2019

Words and Light

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If I could tell you
my deepest, newest thoughts,
they would have the same words
that I’ve been saying for years,
the same words others are saying,
no doubt, like me, noticing that
they essence they are trying to convey
does not come through

Words! — they are fickle vessels,
more like light projections
that you can walk in front of
and fill them with your shadow
while the image is reflected
off of you

But light — light can inhabit words,
if briefly, and it can keep them
in listening’s reflective silence.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 23, 2019

Integral

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I was tempted by the mantle
of the good guy —
the evidence compelling,
the accolades attractive

But I considered —
What, then, of the bad guys?
Is there anyone I’m willing
to throw under the bus,
to think of them as scraps
to pull away from my fine cut out
and discard?

No. Let the cloth be whole.
Let there be no one condemned,
no one discarded.
Let the good I am
be one that holds out
for the true picture,
where no one is cut out
and all are welcomed,
where everybody’s place is integral.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 22, 2019

Closure

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The prospect of departure
is like wood settling in to the fire,
causing a quickening of flames —
our actions burn warmer
though there is less fuel
to work with

We will do what we can
and leave when we have to.
There is power and comfort
in closure.
We’ll savor the silence
before the next act.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 21, 2019

Bed of Acceptance

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At the end of our day,
size of remaining tasks notwithstanding,
we have to acknowledge
what was accomplished —
two vehicles saved
from the ravages of mice
(at least for now)
and some flickers of clarity
rising up in the firelight
as we considered
our past and future course

Now I can hold you
in the love that offers
a bed of acceptance
like coals hold the wood in the fire —
whatever you may think of your life
can be transmuted, offered up as warmth,
rendered translucent in the service
of that which glorifies us all.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 19, 2019