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.

Rising

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When we both come up
Through the thick, viscous soup
That holds us heavy and slow
When we come up
Rising with the lightness
Of slow bubbles
Rising as we must
Because our light
Bears us ever up
When we break the surface
And ascend to brightness
Then our signals
Will flash instantly
Across all time and space
Our messages will already
Have coated all planes
Inside and out
With joy
We will be caught up
In that space embracing
All comprising
Pulse of yes
Exalting in eternal day.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 14, 2012

The taste of life

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Having tasted life
(even in a dream)
we will no longer settle for survival.

No longer put up with
the dry stand-ins,
trinkets, chores, routines,
dispatching of accumulated obligations,
points accrued for things checked off the list.

Having tasted
the electric connection —
the swift-coursing,
igniting, kinetic concatenation
of communion,
the lighting up of our being
in the hallowed glow of oneness,
we will never stand for tedium again.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 13, 2013


Sonnet

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There’s nothing new about this longing
How it rolls up, like mist across a lake
And hovers, haunting and etheric
Obscuring the horizon with its grey
This urgent need for contact and belonging
Cries out for feeding, many times a day
A quest for soft, shared heat, and mingled breathing
A constant call, that doesn’t go away
We once were weaned, or so we may have thought
To self-sufficiency, a virtue (so we’re taught)
But to remember, once, this grand connection
Sends our sufficiency to forge a new direction
To weave our lives so we can be together
In comfort and in shared support, forever.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 12, 2013


To free your soul

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OK, first
you have to get it to be still
for a while:
Bring your hands in gently
on its crazed, self-harming struggles
Hold it so close that it can’t flutter,
till it calms.

Then all the loud repeating voices
pacing through your consciousness
inciting one another to a greater din
will cease,
startled to silence by the pause within.

They will look on in awe
as you take your soul
cradling it
to the open window
Reach your hands outside
And let it go.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 11, 2013


The day flirts with snow

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The day flirts with snow —
In the morning, lets some fall,
though it’s far too warm for it to stick;
In the dimming afternoon,
sports a portentous light
in the pockets of the clouds —
Shades of blue and cream 
between the stark, bare limbs of trees,
that calls for snow.

There is some sense of magic
in the stillness
where, at their tips
the white pine’s needles hold their muted pearls,
that makes me hope
for that white transformation
that stops time,
Makes me catch my breath
in the freshness and the sweetness
of the now.

The day flirts with snow —
It won’t deliver
But at least it kissed my soul
with its bright shiver.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 10, 2013


One Truth

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Why should it seem strange
that for all our differences,
what we all want 
is the same?

Yet I find myself astonished
at how one truth
dissolves so many schemes,
Renders irrelevant the diets, the regimes,
the resolutions and the dogged efforts,
the striving to be marginally better,
the accusations, tit for tat, of sin,
the arguments on which approach will win —

Listen:
You are beloved,
You are accepted,
You are needed,
You belong here,
And your many gifts are priceless.
You deserve to live,
And you deserve
all you need so you can fully thrive,
And what your heart tells you is right
really is.

The moment we are each convinced of this
We leave all hurt and pain and grief
for bliss.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 9, 2013


The hand of Love

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Yesterday I was looking over my old blog, Splash of Spirit, and saw two poems that I had written under the titles “The Hand of Love”, and “The Hand of Love II,” which I wrote in 2008 and 2009 respectively, before I knew I was a poet. The first one I wrote in a writing group that I was leading for homeless women; I think the first line, in the middle of the night, was inspired by something one of the women suggested. In the second poem, I think I was consciously echoing the first one, though probably not looking at it. Anyway, I thought it might be worthwhile to reproduce them here:


The hand of Love

I.
In the middle of the night
the mother comes and strokes the child’s hair
running her fingers through
gently smoothing the strands

In the middle of the night
the currents of dreams softly realign thought
disentangling the questions
deftly smoothing the strands

Soft as water
strong as currents
lifting the mermaid hair 
up from the rocks
smoothing it and holding it 
in disentangled ripples
The hand of Love lifts all tangled things
smoothes them
sets them right and holds them 
in shimmering order.


II.
In the dawning of the morning
Rays of light stream like combs through the trees
Freeing each branch from its background
Lifting sight
Inspiring the chorus of the birds

In the dawning of the morning
The fingers of Love reach every dreaming thought
Warming each molecule
Enlivening joy
Tuning the chorus of the Word.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 8, 2013

Sea Change

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Everything has changed
on the inside.
Though forms remain,
the structure
has been vivified.

What once was thought etheric
is seen to be more solid
(substance now defined by what’s alive)
And what we thought were bars
we now can see
are merely filterings and siftings
of the light.

What we once thought defined us
has shape-shifted with our spirit
And we see it sets no limits,
being infinite.

Everything has changed
on the inside.
Our step is free, 
our vistas wide,
Though if we turn around and look again,
we may know
This is how we’ve always been.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 7, 2013


When truth walks

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When truth walks
Doors open
She is received
like a kiss
All resistance falling
to the yes

When truth walks
No matter how high
the lies are piled
How thick they’ve been amassed
She steps through them
Exposing them
as weightless shams

When we walk in truth
Though our steps are light
Our traction is momentous
for truth’s way is right.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 6, 2013


Believing

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Maybe
the greatest thing you’ve ever done
is to believe in someone.

Maybe
the anchor of that trust
led someone’s roots
to the deep place of sustenance
where they could pull strength
steadily up into their being
springing forth in beauty and blessings.

Maybe
the best thing you can do
is to believe in someone’s love
For in that flourishing
(the most fulfilling part of their unfolding)
You, too, may find the bounty
that nourishes and brightens
all your days.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 5, 2013