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.

Reconciliation

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Consider reconciliation:
It seems a miracle
to have a change so radical
not just the filling of a black hole
but actual radiance
a star that burns 
with joy as precious treasure
in the place of former pain

This shows the fact that love
though misdirected, sent out
clothed with barbs that tear —
expectations, disappointment
exercise of will, manipulation —
in the end, will do no harm
for in the time of reconciliation
all the hurt dissolves
and what is left is love

This at least is what I hope
in light of all the harm I may have done
I hope my love will still remain
and all the hurt be gone.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 1, 2012


Bedtime Prayer

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One last cocooning prayer
before I sleep
One last tuning 
with that which keeps me
One last recall 
of what prevents my fall
The tender cradle
that enwraps us all

The cozy blankets
and the horizontal plane
won’t, on their own
assure my peace
but my true thanks
and prayer with soft refrain
will bring me home
and set my soul at ease.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 30, 2012

(Background music: Isaac Shepard, “Slow Down”)

Infinite Comfort

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What rescues you
when you are smothered under
the sense of being thought of as a number? —
the numbing nothingness of being counted,
accounted for, 
packaged and dispatched, 
your measure taken,
assessed, dismissed
and so forsaken?

Any act of life can rescue you
and anyone or any living thing can do it
The scent of petals, kissed by warming wind
A smile unweighed, uncalculated, treasured
Or seeing someone needs you as a friend
A gift of time untallied and unmeasured
Whatever focuses on what is infinite
will make a place for you
and bring you into it.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 29, 2012


(background music: Isaac Shepard “A Fond Farewell”)

Watching the Competition

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At a certain point I notice
Being nervous for another
does no good
and the tight way I’ve been breathing
with my breath held at half way
I must replace
must finish my inhale, then let it out
For no matter how I hold myself suspended
I’m still here
with all my weight
Any eggshells I’ve been sitting on
are roundly crushed
so I might as well relax

I know I’m called upon for something higher
I know it’s right for me
to hold a space
but not this one
I need an open place
within my consciousness
A soft, pervading peace
that holds no nervousness
that lets the grace
that always waits to flourish
open out, flow in
in healing waves with which I can take part
and so restore the rhythm 
of my heart.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 28, 2012



All I have

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All I have
to give this love with
are my hands
my hands and my spirit
and my strong desire
How could I have thought
to leave them out
to give love telekinetically?
How was I not taught
to use everything I have
all of my consciousness
including my body
to tune and give this love?
Generations of us
grew up lost
but here it is:
my hands, my arms, my heart —
all I have —
Now I am learning to use, 
to give and receive this love,
all that I have
all that I am.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 26, 2012



a humble prayer

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today

let me own no opinion
let me be led
let me not try
to construct meaning,
envision purpose,
steer my craft
there is plenty here
in this receptive place
enough to do
in learning, listening, following
that I don’t need
to pull a plan from the air
don’t need to
invent or vaunt myself
it’s enough
to be here.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 25, 2012

Music in background: “Simple Moments” by Isaac Shepard




Love’s Quest (graphically speaking)

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Funny the asymptotic arc
of what we call love’s quest
In one quadrant
(the one that’s called the quest for love)
We find the emptiness that never is fulfilled
the need that cries and cries
and so attracts
only more emptiness
a howling fall
that moans and moans
up an endless shaft
and even when it tries to rise
it never meets its goal

In another quadrant
(the one that’s called the quest of love)
We find the fullness that can never be suppressed
extending gracefully and effortless
an energy that never is depressed
a presence that can never be alone
since everywhere it looks
it finds its own.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 24, 2012



Sounded Through

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A flute, after the song is done
Still holds the silver echo in its shaft
The soft sweet stirrings of vibrations
In all the places where it crooned and laughed

It’s said that flutes, with age,
grow richer —
the frequencies of former songs
all etched along their smooth interiors
which, with each touch,
arise more keenly, newly strong

Love is the same — it plays you like a flute:
Each song in which you let yourself be played
will make your singing richer, deep
The joy with which you then reverberate
will be a quality you’ll always keep
that sings you ever closer to your truth.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 22, 2012



In tune

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To be in tune
is such a natural thing
though unacknowledged
in our benighted sphere
A thing that babies know at birth
and try with some success at first
to teach their parents

Why do we then fall into such confusion
Thinking that we’re born without a clue
and must be plied with tedious instruction
before there’s anything we know that we can do?

It opens up a yawning gap
that stretches over many weary, lonely years
of seeking satisfaction in the proffered tasks
expected failure deepening our fears
When what we really wanted
is so close to us, so simple
To listen once again to infant wisdom
To find the ancient science of connection
Ride on the waves 
that make us move as one.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 21, 2012



Thought Channels

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Thought’s landscape — how it changes
         how the current rearranges
                 deepens here, deposits there
                      accenting flows, directing rivulets
Thought follows patterns
        in its swift recursions
                 pushing at the rock
                    wearing deeper channels
           As it flows swifter
                it may push
                   over formerly dry edges
                     trip itself, dislodging stones
             fall into a new course
which then in mounting rushes
      it can follow
            And the force of it
                    occasions new attention
                                And the joy of it
                                    invokes a new dimension
                              And the pulse of it
               thunders the perfection
of another way to think and feel
          another thing
                    now known as real.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 20, 2012