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.

Elixir

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Full-on Spring,
and the early day
hangs in a feather balance
of warm and cool,
each weighing in
with exquisite tenderness —
constant subtle shifting
singing against my skin
and the air
smells like blossoms and suburbs
and the sweet cleansing
of night breeze
when Spring flowed through me
in the play of mammalian warmth
and clear-sky coldness,
resting me and waking me up
at the same time.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 4, 2013


The law of interaction

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Let this be an article of my faith:
That every interaction
is designed to be healing,
That healing is reciprocal,
Mutually regenerative,
Engendering an escalating joy,
So affirming, in each of us,
Our power and our purpose
to co-create life
in just this way.

Then let me look around and notice
this same pattern, in every place repeated,
Life so fully and unceasingly
supporting life,
in interlock of movement, shape and rhythm.

This is you.
This is me.
This is Life, here and now.
This is what we must know to expect.
This is truth.
We can see it.
And we all know how
to birth healing
in every shared breath.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 3, 2013


Falling

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there’s no scrambling
against the falling
everything’s going down
falling like sand
plunging like avalanche
down and down

call it sadness
call it gravity
call it the way everything
must fall to its source
must home to its truth

and at the deepest core of truth
it can rest
rest in the ion-aligned place
where there is no doubt
no doubt at all
what it is
and from this clarity
it will, it must, rise
assert its centered essence
breathe and praise

©Wendy Mulhern
May 2, 2013


The edge of sleep

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I surface to the strobe-like pulse,
waking after nodding off —
Beneath my still-closed lids
I see a dancing form
bobbing away towards the edges of
my closed-eye vision
Maybe
I’m not, in fact, awake . . . 

(This afternoon, while I was napping on a bench,
my hand shielding my eyes
from the bright sunlight,
A dog woke me up
with a slight, deft lick on my face —
Woke me up, then bounded off . . .

I sat a while, a little dazed
by sun and wind
and sitting up quickly,
Then lay down for just a little more nap
before heading home.)

©Wendy Mulhern
May 1, 2013


Love speaks like this

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Wait just a moment
And you can feel the love flow in
Like water on the tidal shore
seeps through the sand
melting the footprints

Let the impressions all grow wide and bright
and shimmery
While the answering rush of warmth
wells up in you
This, too, will shine —
Flash out its signal
Far across the water
to the other side.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 30, 2013


Harvesting

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In this moment,

Nominally evening, 
Though bright green leaves outside
show no sign of gloaming,
In a state of pleasant tiredness
in the swing chair, swinging
I reflect that I’m delighting in a harvest.

This is harvest of a dream,
Planted more than twenty years ago
Harvest of a vision for this kind of space and peace,
Proof that things I plant as dear desires
Have their own life

That, absent any tending on my part
They still take root and grow
alongside every other hope
I may or may not notice
And bear their unassuming fruit
Which I may reap
by noting them with gratitude
Which lets me keep
with joy to which each harvest must give rise:
this blessing that now swings before my eyes.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 29, 2013


For Heather at finals time

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For you to be
exactly what you are
doesn’t take a miracle

That what you are
is astoundingly perfect
in each creation, every interaction
should be no surprise

That “perfect” be defined
by the eternal laws of Life,
of seamless symbiosis, joyful thriving,
pure delight,
Makes perfect sense,
for the great source
from which we all have come
Gives us our impulse, our guidance
and our home.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 28, 2013


Through the pass

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The mountain alders
In luminescent jeweled green
Have limbs much thinner than their trunks;
It is their strategy
to grow fast and high
And spread new limbs each year
Against the sky

The darker firs
still wear the garb they wore all winter
Stoically, heroically surviving —
Their springing tips come later in the year.
All along the pass
The wind turns bright leaves over
Dancing spots of white against the green

And we are voyeurs here
Flying through on the interstate
Taking in a scene that ought to cost us
far more effort.
Still it invites us
to leave our hardened corridors
Forge into mystery
And find our green.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 27, 2013


Greening

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Along the ever-surging edge
of what’s alive,
There’s no time
for construction of a casing.
The growing tip is light and soft,
Ever moving into what it is becoming.

The story, the woody stem,
That which will uphold it
over future years
Will come later
in the established corridors
of nurture and support —
The long-stretched-out connection
between root and frond

But its identity,
Its form, its exaltation,
Its phototropic, geotropic
orientation,
The sensitivity, and the sensation,
Are most felt
in this newly forming green.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 26, 2013


Fluidity

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From flashes in the corner of my eye
I start to sense
that what I operationally
have called reality
is completely fluid,
unanchored as water —
Which helps explain
the many times I’ve fallen through
when leaning into something
that I thought was real.

What I have called reality
is as fluid as thought
and changes just as deftly
as a dream —
Not only in the sense of what is now,
but also in my thought
of everything that’s gone before

Fluid as thought
And anchored only in the forces
that control its waves
that weave the grand and languid dance
that nothing stops —
Each impulse’s momentum
playing out its power
Nothing forgotten
in the rolling course of life.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 25, 2013