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.

Pictures — A Triptych

Posted on by
Reply

I.
Someone should take a picture of this,
my grandmother would say.
Here, stand just here, and look:
The square of sunlight from the window,
That bar of shadow from the doorframe
And the cat, alight with color
from the warmth of afternoon,
sheen on fur, luxuriating

II.
My mom takes her iphone, Wink,
and trains it almost daily
on the same scene,
aiming to capture
the light that fills her
and all the subtle energizing changes
in the seasons’ life

mom pic

III.
I, who for so long have said
that photographing stints my other senses
and even cramps my vision,
have this small camera
(the one we got in Costa Rica so it speaks Spanish,
the one wherein I scarcely see what fills the frame)
Because I want for you to see
the poem I’ve written,
I take my camera,
I point and click.

green lake2

©Wendy Mulhern
May 27, 2014

photos by Pam Cassel, Wendy Mulhern

Morning, Magnuson Park

Posted on by
Reply

wetlands

The uplands rise in harmony
above the meadow,
above the wetlands
where blackbirds sing
and land on cattails
rising from reflective waters
(last year’s rattling stalks,
this year’s eager green)

Above, the swallows dip and dart,
close their wings to surge and fall,
flick of tail or wing tip turning them
in flights as wild
as those of flying insects

The sky is still,
the morning light holds its breath
while all these weavings —
sights and sounds and creatures —
form a dome of peace
over this moment, over this land.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 26. 2014

My Request

Posted on by
1

mystica arch3

I want to share a place
where I can touch home,
a point to which we come
between our journeying,
And our convergent energy
provides collective heat,
and our communal comfort
recharges us

I want to be a place
where you can touch home,
a point to swing around
in your exciting orbit,
a place to gather strength,
a place to feel
that you are seen and welcomed,
and belong

I want a core that’s large enough
that no one ever feels the need
to bear the weight alone,
and everyone can nestle in
and anyone can find it,
so we will always have a way
to touch home.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 25, 2014

See

Posted on by
1

seen3

Most things are not inscrutable.
In general, things are waiting
to tell you what they are,
waiting for that catch of eye
that shows you’ve seen them,
waiting for the mutual tug
that shows you’re tracking,
ready to notice
what they’ll show

Most things long
for the steady cohesion
of your attention.
They’ll thrive under it,
they’ll yield their deepest secrets
willingly, elatedly —
so fulfilled they are
at having been seen,
really seen,
at having been known by you.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 24, 2014

May Rain

Posted on by
Reply

wind chime2

The morning’s soft rain,
heralded by wind chimes
at the open south window,
conversed about by crows,
welcomed by waiting seedlings,
settled in cozy,
the outside air still warm enough
to allow it the run of the house,
the gentleness of May
embracing the quiet wetness
as fully as it yesterday
embraced the sun.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 23, 2014

Quiet

Posted on by
Reply

Matthew's Beach

(Matthew’s Beach, half past noon)

My mind is quiet,
As quiet as this water
with its slow undulation
and its quicker shimmers,
As quiet as the glide
of goose families on the lake,
Open to sky reflection
and the darker view
(underside of ripples)
of refracted colors
from the bottom, from the shore

My mind is quiet,
and the gentle, ruffling breezes
that rise from time to time
and stir up little waves along the shore
Are as patient and as aimless
as the fluff of cottonwoods
drifting and resting,
and the shafts of rippled sun,

Oblivious to all the local chatter
and the drone of distant boats
Quiet as the depth of
no need for decisions
as the day flows along
its broad and open course.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 22, 2014

Your Calling

Posted on by
Reply

your calling

There is a time
when the goal comes into view —
When you first see it
it may be blurry
like the moon through clouds
but it will insist

And though you may resist
by picking up whatever else
had ever held your interest,
You will drop them
or they will fall away
because they lack the light
to capture your attention,
You will look up from them
and the goal will shine

That’s when you’re ready
to bring everything —
all your dedication, your humility,
your earnest perseverance,
your steady work,
your insight
and your eager readiness
to be forever sparked,
because this is your course
and you will run it.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 21, 2014

In the Tent of the Universe

Posted on by
2

tent of universe

Oh, this life!
One thing I know —
Every separate thing
will come together
in some unimaginable arc.
Everything that seems so
out of whack
will still come round again,
in countless iterations, subtle shiftings,
till it turns out to be
the essential linchpin
of some delicious dimension
we’d never known before,
opening our sights,
vastly multiplying
the realms wherein we fly.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 20, 2014

In the Company of Plants

Posted on by
Reply

The day knew how
to sit with me calmly,
to let me move
in my own rhythm,
to let me get better
in the company of plants —
tomato and basil and leek starts,
green onions, kale —

No demands were made
on my attention
while I moved slowly
in emerging sun
through tasks that kept my hands
in contact with the crumbly soil,
learning its nourishment,
approaching whole.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 19, 2014

Gratitude for Activists

Posted on by
1

activists

Those who fight for freedom
to be themselves beyond the norms of gender
fight for us all,
for we are all constricted by the norms

Those who fight oppression against women
fight for us all,
for every slighting of the worth of any person
slights us all

Living in privilege
makes people stupid,
because, in that mythos,
it’s to our advantage
to simply not notice
that we are complicit
in others’ suppression

There is no us and them
and every one of us
who lifts a voice in courage,
to be heard and seen and known,
makes room for more of us
under the sky,
to find our voices
and to claim our own,
to lift our many-colored heads
and grow more free.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 18, 2014