Who’s ever heard
of a silent spell?
Isn’t it supposed to rhyme?
Shouldn’t it contain
the eye of something,
the tail of something else,
some leaves, some poison,
a cauldron, a fire,
and a whole lot of stirring?
But this spell can’t be manufactured.
All it wants is your attention.
All it wants is for you to feel
how it feels to end.
It wants you to lean
into loss and let it do
its slow work on you.
It doesn’t offer a magic word—
no word is magic enough
to do what must be done.
Which is to trust
the vanishing nature of things.
Which is to let the body
grasp and grasp and grasp
until at last it is ready
to release. Any spell
for ending well
knows its own uselessness.
It knows the importance
of silence. It knows
that anyone who would look up
a spell for ending well
already has exactly what they need.
Thank you for this, Rosemerry. Had I read this one of the mornings before my son’s death, I would have printed a copy for him (to read in silence, at his own pace, perhaps repeating). Looking back on his final week or so, I think we were both in a spell of awareness that letting go was eminent and not something to resist. I am still leaning into the loss of him (3 months now) but with acceptance, not resistance. Feels good to read this affirmation that I’m not nuts, not in some sort of denial fog.
Oh friend, thank you for sharing this about your son. My heart opens to you–no no you are not at all nuts. Here you are, leaning. I lean toward you, too.
Thanks, Rosemerry, for reminding us that the spell to make possible what is good is not magic…
Ah dear Poetry man, thank you for this …
[…] Inspired by “Spell for Ending Well” by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, posted December 7, 2020, on her website: A Hundred Falling Veils […]