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Artwork

Poems

Pleasure Lake by Jeanelle Wheeler 

 

 

 


Wind is a puppeteer
Leaves dance with her pull
Like marionette strings
Made of spiders’ silk
Sun is a painter
Leaves shade with her light
Aglow with shadows
Like disco balls
Reflecting water’s ripples
Yet the rusted pole
Pokes from the pool
Jagged with brokenness
As it dyed water green
The pole’s poison protrudes
In a murky teal
The pole-putter
Stole the wind’s strings
Stole sun’s brushes
As it rusts
The water weeps
Green tears
 

00:00 / 00:57

Willow Lake by Jeanelle Wheeler 

 

 

 


Ducks dabble.
Forward fold,
Wiggle webbed,
Feet fly, float.
I want to dip,
Like they can.
Finding meals,
Via handstand.
They do
Acrobatic feedings
They can
Swim and soar
Humans think
We’re better than
The flying ones
The floating ones
The feathered ones
But
We’re
Not.
I want to be
A duck

00:00 / 00:43

Elm Lake by Jeanelle Wheeler 

 

 

 


To be rooted
Means the wind
Doesn’t give you
Quivers
No shivers
Just stable
Unmoving
To be rooted
Means the bark
Creeps up
In jagged peels
Worn
Torn
But always
Embracing
To be rooted
Means branches
Extend further
Unseen under soil
Roots
Simply trust
Let branches
Reach higher
Sprout leaves
And feel sun
Above ground
While
Underground
Grounds
Home

00:00 / 00:49

Heron at the Pond By Patricia McAlpine 

 

 

​
Beak at the ready,
he stands erect
As if in prayer,
he slowly lowers
his head to the pond
He turns, steps closer
looks up to the sky.
then lowers and dips
his beak to scoop
up his prey, his fish meal
but chooses to release
Fish swims away.

At sixty-eight,
I crossed an ocean of years
and the restless hum of Mumbai—
that concrete heartbeat
I had learned to call home.

And here, in Rhode Island,
I found something startling:
quiet.
Spaces wide enough for breath.
A sky that doesn’t jostle for room.

Roger Williams Park opened itself to me
like a gentle miracle—
water still as prayer,
trees leaning in
as if to whisper, you’ve arrived.I walk its paths slowly,
letting the green seep into me,
wondering how long it has been
since I felt nature
without having to fight for it.
I watch wide- eyed the waters,
Shimmering in the lake.

I see the glorious sunset, 

Like a halo,

the Temple Of music.

The temple of Spiritual wonder.
 

The elegant swans. Gliding
Effortlessly. The chirping of
the birds.
In the soft rustle of leaves,
I carry a small ache—
a wish from the deepest corners
of my Indian heart:
that Mumbai, my beloved chaos,
could cradle her parks
with the same tender hands,
protect her green lungs,
let them breathe again.

Here, beauty feels effortless.
There, it has to be defended.

And so I stand between two worlds—
one I come from,
one I grow into—
grateful for this quiet sanctuary,
yet forever holding hope
for the city that raised me.

For even after seventy
we are still learning
where our spirit feels most alive.
 

Coming Home to Green by Odil Medeira     

00:00 / 02:57
00:00 / 00:30

Video

Bloom...!, 2025

by Jeanelle Wheeler 

​

"For this video, I combined my memories of being a volunteer for the Canada Goose survey with the time that my friends and I rode the swan boats in Willow Lake. I learned how the data from this citizen science project aims to research how the fecal matter of geese contribute to algae blooms and affect water quality. Around the time I started volunteering, my friends and I rode in a swan boat and dipped their hands in the water. I wanted to showcase through video these invisible secrets of the water as we try to learn more about how to improve the water quality"

 

This product has been funded wholly or in part by the United States Environmental Protection Agency under Assistance Agreement CE00A01306 to the recipient. The contents of this document do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, nor does the U.S. EPA endorse trade names or recommend the use of any products, services, or enterprises mentioned in this document.

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