May there always be inside me
a little old man with scuffed up shoes,
a hobble in his step,
and hands upturned in wonder.
May he shuffle along
behind me wherever I am
and whisper in awe,
again and again,
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
And may he always
be telling the truth—
may he never be
a parrot for beauty,
but a real witness—
able to see
what I in my sad stupor cannot.
May he find glitter in frost,
the curl in the steam that rises from rot,
the deep rose in the sunset
on the day the boy was shot.
And let me not ignore him
especially when I want to.
Let me hear him and be moved
to open my hands in amazement, too.
And when my own thoughts
are too loud,
when I can’t hear
his quiet, urgent sincerity,
let him bump into me
as passes me by,
let him lead me with his wonder,
both of us limping
toward the light.
To read Ross Gay’s poem, visit here
Archive for October, 2023
After Reading Ross Gay’s “Overheard”
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beauty, inner world, Ross Gay, wonder on October 31, 2023| 11 Comments »
Principle
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged buoyancy, choice, density, mother, resilience, science on October 30, 2023| 8 Comments »
for my mother
She could have sunk,
the way a stone
falls to the bottom
of the pond.
But she didn’t.
She floated like wood,
like cork, like ice.
Floated like a ball
tossed in an angry sea.
Density alone
is simple math:
mass divided
by volume.
But density
of spirit is,
perhaps, a choice.
As if we exist
to be tossed
again and again
into the waters
of difficulty,
each toss
another chance
to practice
buoyancy.
FOUR UPCOMING CHANCES TO PLAY ONLINE,PLUS INVITATION TO A GROUP POEM–A POETRY MALA FOR PEACE
Posted in Uncategorized on October 29, 2023| Leave a Comment »
The Table of Loss and Love: A writing ritual for Samhain
Nov. 1, 6-8 p.m. MDT
An evening of ritual remembering our loved ones who are no longer with us in body—ritual, reading poems, writing and sharing. With Kayleen Asbo. For more information, visit here.
Love, Sex, Death and Everything: A Creativity Playshop with Gustav Klimt
Nov. 3, 10, 17, 11a.m. -1 p.m. MDT
Three weeks of exploring what lurks in the depths of humanity. Each class begins with a deep Jungian-oriented dive into music and myths behind Klimts images led by Kayleen Asbo, then Rosemerry leads an hour of exploring mortality, passion, terror and beauty in your own creative writing practice. For more information and to register, visit here.
Hello Death: A Poetry Thoughtshop on Meeting Our Own Mortality
Nov. 14, 6-7 p.m. MDT
Part of showing up for our own lives is considering our own deaths. How might poetry help us explore mortality with grace, humor, honesty and wonder? This 50-minute webinar Rosemerry reads poems and shares many invitations for writing on your own. For more information and to register, visit here.
Sitting in the Midst of It All
Dec. 7 & 8
Join Courage & Renewal facilitator Marcia Eames-Sheavly and Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer for a mini-retreat—a day and a half of self-care, wonder, quietude, gentleness, acceptance and connection. For more information, visit here.
Making a Poetry Mala
(the following note is from my friend Jess Stevens)
Dear Friends,
Two days ago Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer published a series of short poems titled “Three Prayer Beads after Reading the News” which inspired me to write my own prayer bead… and then imagine an infinite strand of prayer beads. IMO, it is just this kind of witnessing and participation (among others) that we desperately need right now. Below you will find her poems, followed by mine. So I am trying to create the thread on which the beads might be knotted together, one after the other.
If you feel inspired to add one, or a small few, email them to me HERE. Please try to fit yours into a three line freeform haiku (as demonstrated below) so that, like a strand of prayer beads, all voices will be approximately the same size and create a certain resonance.
You can click HERE to read the entire mala-in-progress
(But remember, it will not grow without contribution. So please consider taking a moment to sit well, open your heart and write… and check back periodically to read new additions)
With love and gratitude,
Jess Stevens
*****
from one gun shot
across the world,
millions more wounded
*
translating “number of casualties”
into daughters, sons,
lovers, friends
*
but what do I do?
I ask the leaves,
lean into the ache as I listen
*
Tiny paper cranes
keep whispering
not all of the world is a hammer
Balancing Act
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged dad, daughter, family, father, memory, support on October 29, 2023| 6 Comments »
When I was a girl, my father
would lie on his back, palms up.
I’d step barefoot into his hands
and slowly, slowly, he’d lift me.
I’d balance above him, floating
like an angel, like a circus star,
like a little girl who trusts her dad
to support her. Fifty years later,
I still feel his hands on my soles—
even this moment, I could rise.
In a Downpour
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged color, ekphrasis, encouragement, rain, smile on October 28, 2023| 6 Comments »
On an uphill slog
of a day,
your real smile
is like a single
red umbrella
in a long pageant
of black umbrellas.
Suddenly,
it’s all I can see.
Three Prayer Beads after Reading the News
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged compassion, killing, violence, war on October 27, 2023| 16 Comments »
from one gun shot
across the world,
millions more wounded
*
translating “number of casualties”
into daughters, sons,
lovers, friends
*
but what do I do?
I ask the leaves,
lean into the ache as I listen
On a Day When I’m Sure Words Won’t Make Things Better
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Jane Hilberry, love, poetry, words on October 27, 2023| 10 Comments »
for Jane Hilberry
That is when I arrive at the home
of my college literature professor.
She welcomes me in and serves me fennel tea—
slightly bitter, slightly sweet—
and amidst talk of art and anxiety,
vulnerability and the longing
for a teacher who will stretch us,
she serves me hummus, thin slices of cucumber,
olives and plump green grapes.
She recites by heart a poem about Love
inviting in someone who feels unworthy.
And the table where we sit becomes Love’s table,
and oh, sweet alchemy of syllable and silence,
I’m opened by words written centuries ago.
They slip in my cells and warm me, transform me.
I dog-ear the moment so I can return
when I again forget what words can do.
This Is How
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged amygdala, autumn, brain, death, scent on October 25, 2023| 8 Comments »
It’s the chill air, say the scientists,
that allows the nose to delineate
the musky smell of autumn,
not like the warm summer air
that traps and mashes
all the aromatic molecules together.
No, it’s the constricting nature of cold
that lets us pick out the sweet loam
of dried grass and peaty scent of sugars
breaking down in the leaves.
But it’s memory that says,
Isn’t this smell wonderful.
It’s the amygdala that relates it
to the childhood joy
of skipping through gutters of oak leaves
and the adult joy of jumping
in great piles of cottonwood leaves
with my son.
In this golden moment,
I’m every age I’ve ever been in the fall,
and every version of me basks
in low autumn light. This is how
I breathe in the fragrance of death
and decay and moldering,
and think isn’t it wonderful, this life.
Dark Praise at the True North Gallery in Colorado Springs
Posted in Uncategorized on October 24, 2023| 4 Comments »
October 26, 6:30 p.m. LIVE EVENT!
I am so thrilled to participate in a grand gathering of the artists of “Dark Praise,” an intimate performance and album release with me, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, and my beloved guitarist friend, the talented Steve Law, hosted at the gallery of our amazing cover artist, Marisa S. White.
Friends, I can hardly express how excited I am about this album. I love these poems together–I love this theme. I love the music. I love the art.
Flirty. Tender. Electric. Raw. This evening of poetry and music spans the spectrum of human emotions at the same time it explores “endarkenment:” all the ways the dark nourishes us, opening us to creativity, passion, intimacy, revelation, dreaming, receptivity, self-discovery and connection. Some growth and beauty is possible only in the dark. It will be a live-version of the newly released album Dark Praise, which features a cover by gallery artist, Marisa S. White.
An optional donation at the door goes to support the artists and gallery.
Limited Seating. Max capacity = 20 guests. All are welcome. For the event, visit here.
To see the videos from this album (so far) … visit here.
To purchase the album, visit here.
To download the album for free, go to wherever you download music.