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.

Falling

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“Not one sparrow shall fall to the ground without your Father “

And so it is with falling,
with weather and with cadence
with things we see and cease to see,
windfall, rainfall, nightfall,
and things we hear – the sound of words,
rhythm of talk, of footfall

Nothing falls alone,
and everything is met
in the unknown place of falling
where no one can see it –
the story drops from view
but hasn’t ended,
the needs of each one there
tenderly tended.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 24, 2020

Supreme Wisdom

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Supreme wisdom bubbles with mirth.
There’s nothing ponderous about it.
It takes the measure of every living thing,
and nothing is found wanting.
Every being is so delightful,
so spot on perfect, so ingenious
in how it’s made, supreme wisdom
can’t help but laugh
in sheer appreciation

In my quest for wisdom, let me feel
the lightness of the light –
light-hearted and heart-lighted,
a gravitas with an enduring twinkle,
and space for everyone,
and time to see them.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 23, 2020

Rethink

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It’s not too late to turn around –
the voice that says you’ve come too far
along this path, you’ve made your choice,
there is no turning back –
that voice is not your own,
and it’s not true

It’s not too late to change your mind,
change it completely, change the way it thinks –
you are not bound to have the same reactions,
however many times
you have before

It’s not too late,
for you are just beginning, really.
We all are very young, very new
at this art of being –
we have eternity in which to learn.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 22, 2020

Report at the Equinox

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Blackbirds are back,
Crickets are still here,
The ferns are still green
but they seem more subdued,
sitting, perhaps, a bit lower

Needles drop from firs
from time to time,
Some maples are starting
to show fall colors,
Smoke came through
but now has mostly lifted –
there’s blue between the white clouds
in the upper sky

This moment’s pause in wind
portends that it may rain soon,
My skin is gritty
from airborne dirt and ash,
The work awaiting us is bountiful –
All in all, it feels good to be back.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 21, 2020

Time Off

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Somehow we needed to take a pause
from the colors of duty
which are the colors of
everything we see in our day,
the chores to do, 
the work to prepare for,
and encamp within the colors
of other worlds — of fantasy,
of music, of time off
from our trajectory,
to drift in the colors 
of movies, and shows,
and the sense that
if we don’t leave tomorrow
we’ll still arrive.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 18, 2020


Wait

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I’m here to work out
the problem of waiting,
something like being sure
I’m at the right stop,
or more that I’m scanning
along the right vector

The reign of truth
doesn’t unfurl down the lines of time,
where cause-effect links
are an illusion

What I wait for
has always been here —
it’s my intense intent
to see it present.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 17, 2020


Waiting

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It takes one kind of fortitude
to stand against the flame,
to face disaster, to act decisively

It takes another to endure the smoke,
the dreariness, the waiting,
to find some way to still be active
when there’s nothing you can do

Life goes on anyway,
algae forming in the pond …
leaves turn, dragonflies hover,
berries ripen, and dry out,
their own cycles
absorbing them entirely.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 15, 2020


Morning Walk

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I could feel the rush of tears
behind the smoke, behind the fog,
a smell of sea breeze
providing salt

I wanted them to wash
all the stories down like sand,
to cut through to the place
where pebbles gathered

I wanted us all to have the chance
to start over again,
to bring our regrets to where
we could safely lay them down,
and finally to look clear-eyed upon each other
without fear, without judgment, without masks.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 14, 2020


Cocoon

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As easy as a yawn,
as easy as a comfy chair
with plenty of light,
as easy as a conversation
with memories and things to do with hands,
the afternoon and evening settled in

It has been an easy landing
from the place we had to leave,
and easy place to stay inside,
since we have to


We can call it a cocoon for now,
we can get ready
for the time, coming so soon,
to jump back in. 

©Wendy Mulhern
September 13, 2020


Toward the end of the fires

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We won’t talk about hope
before its time.
We won’t talk about rebirth
while there are still hot embers
on the ground.
We will acknowledge
each thing gets what it needs
right when it needs it

Pick up what’s true for you
here on the ground. If it’s mourning,
do it heartily, honestly, wholly.
If it’s gratitude for how important
you now know life to be,
for what you found right under
all the desolation – hold that.
If it’s the life that roars in counter burn
against destruction, then roar with it
as long as that is needed

You may notice, at some time,
the web of care that rushes in,
you may feel a deep relief
that all is not lost.
You may come back with new resolve
and fresh humility
to be a part of this, to deeply live.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 12, 2020