When, in the middle of the night,
you wake with the certainty you’ve
done it all wrong, when you wake
and see clearly all the places you’ve failed,
in that moment, when dreams will not return,
this is the chance for your softest voice—
the one you reserve for those you love most—
to say to you quietly, oh sweetheart,
this is not yet the end of the story.
Sleep will not come, but somehow,
in that wide awake moment there is peace—
the kind of peace that does not need
everything to be right before it arrives.
The peace that comes from not fighting
what is real. The peace that rises
in the dark on its sure dark wings
to meet you exactly as you are.
Archive for January, 2024
With Astonishing Tenderness
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged failure, peace, self-compassion, self-talk, sleeplessness on January 14, 2024| 14 Comments »
Skiing in the Dark
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged darkness, identity, skiing on January 13, 2024| 8 Comments »
Though you know by heart
this valley with its river,
its sheer red walls,
its ragged peaks,
in this moment all you see
is the dull glow of snow
a few feet in front of you
and dim shadows almost
suggesting the track,
and the whole world shrinks
to lungs and legs and stroke
and glide and it feels so good
to be outside, to move
through night guided more
by ears and less by eyes,
to slide through the world
a foot at a time and whoever
you were before this,
that’s not who you are now,
sweet creature of heartbeat,
stranger to the next moment.
Inner Fusion
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged daughter, driving, father, gratefulness, grief, memory, New York on January 11, 2024| 8 Comments »
How does it happen,
you’re driving and the mind
opens a door closed for decades
and suddenly you’re sitting
at an elegant white table
with white linen napkins
and a single white rose
in a restaurant in The Plaza Hotel
in downtown New York City
and your father sits across
from you, his smile wide,
his eyes bright, and you’re fifteen
and you’ve never before
been in a place like this
and it’s wonderful, this strange
and beautiful scene where
you don’t belong and yet
all worlds seem to merge into this one
where you’re driving through snow
on the winding river road and
your father is here holding your hand
as you look at the menu and
accelerate through the curve
as he taught you and
he loves you and though
he is dead now, you can’t stop
saying thank you.
One After the Sauna
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged angel, cold, sauna, snow, sound on January 11, 2024| 13 Comments »
in deep, new snow
a naked angel makes wings—
her song, how it soars
How the Heart Remembers
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged bird, eagle, freedom, righteousness on January 9, 2024| 4 Comments »
When I was sure I couldn’t be happy,
not in that moment, anyway, that was when,
at the edge of my vision, I saw the dark wing
and looked up in time to see a bald eagle
with its white head and white tail
as it soared toward me,
low enough I could see the bright yellow
of its beak, and I swear I, too, took flight
in that moment as my eyes lifted and my heart
wheeled and my senses stretched out—
and I couldn’t stay clenched. I couldn’t.
Not that some part of me didn’t try.
It felt too good to be angry, betrayed.
There are ways the world brings us
back into its arms, saves us when we
pretend we are small, invites us back
into greatness through wonder.
Oh the miracle of wing, the marvel
of bird as it weaves through air,
the thrill of the heart as it remembers
what it is to be free.
Tinder
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged darkness, fire, language, morning on January 8, 2024| 8 Comments »
Sometimes, long before the sun rises,
you whisper good morning,
and it’s as if you’ve built a small fire
in the hearth of predawn,
each syllable a small flame
leaping up in the dark,
a welcome kindling.
It takes so little to fill the room
with warmth, with light.
Journey into Endarkenment: A Conversation with Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged dark praise, interview on January 8, 2024| Leave a Comment »
Earlier today I did a live interview with the fabulous Kara Johnstad for OmTimes Radio. She’s a wonderful interviewer–insightful and lively, and I really enjoyed our conversation about poetry, Rilke, embracing the full spectrum of experience, life and death and light and dark and imagination and shadow and inspiration and more … plus we listen to several tracks from my new album Dark Praise. Below is a description of the program and here is the link to listen!
Embrace the beauty of the dark and discover the transformative power of endarkenment in our upcoming Voice Rising Show! Join Voice Visionary Kara Johnstad in conversation with American poet Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, as they explore the profound depths of creativity, passion, and revelation through Rosemerry’s new spoken-word album, “Dark Praise.” In a culture that often celebrates only the light, Rosemerry’s journey to embrace darkness has brought forth a rich tapestry of wisdom that promises to inspire your own creative journey.
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, known for her lyrical poetry and unique storytelling, has been recognized for her exceptional contributions to the world of poetry. Join us as we delve into the significance of endarkenment alongside enlightenment and how embracing the dark can open doors to essential self-discovery and connection. Learn how writing about our fears can lead to profound revelations and how the collaboration between poetry and music enhances the power of spoken word.
Don’t miss this opportunity to explore poetry as an oral and aural art form and gain insights into Rosemerry’s extraordinary creative journey. Mark your calendars for an illuminating conversation that celebrates the transformative power of the dark. Stay tuned for this enlightening episode on the Voice Rising Show.
Skiing into the Storm
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged chaos, instability, skiing, wind, winter on January 8, 2024| 10 Comments »
I love the days when it feels right
not to turn from the storm
but to move deeper in,
when the body doesn’t shy
from the cold and wind,
when the smile arrives
as the storm magnifies
and a whoop rises from the lungs
like a fierce and hardy bird.
What is it in us that feels more alive
in these moments?
Is it the part that rhymes
with instability,
the untamable part
that knows chaos, too,
is holy? And the gusts
swirl and the chill bites
and the smile
incredibly widens.
Because in a year or twenty I won’t remember
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged daughter, indwelling, memory, moment, time on January 7, 2024| 10 Comments »
the way this afternoon my daughter
wraps her arms around my shoulders
and hangs for a moment on my frame,
because I won’t remember
the simple curl of her smile
and how our necks bow forward slightly
so our foreheads lightly touch,
because I don’t remember hundreds of millions
of other small and precious slivers,
I let myself fully dwell into these seconds—
the warmth of her skin, the cool air of her room,
her window open even mid-winter—
and I pour myself into this moment
knowing how a liquid takes on the shape
of its container, and oh, how I long
to be shaped by this, even if it’s only for now.
One Wish
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged peace on January 5, 2024| 4 Comments »
bird of peace—
make of my heart
a nest
In the Flow
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged flow, river on January 4, 2024| 12 Comments »
Where else has it been,
the water that flows today
in the river beside me?
What song would it sing
of otherwhere? And other
otherwhere? And what
could it teach me of flow?
I think of how I carry with me
all the places I have been—
old cities with cobblestones
and mountaintops above the trees
and aspen glades and dark corners
that stink of sweat and piss
and bright hospital rooms and
cemeteries on hills.
Who would I be without
every trail I have hiked,
every bed I have tossed in,
every table where I’ve wept?
Watch how the waves seem
to stay in the same place
though the water that makes them
is never the same, a fact
that thrills me again and again.
Who will take my place here
when my own water flows on?
Or will the wave disappear
as after a flood?
And who has come before me
making this wave I call my life?
How easily it changes the day
to know self as a drop
in the stream.
Make Over
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beauty, daughter, mom, quiet on January 4, 2024| 8 Comments »
Mom and I apply the thin film
of the facial masks,
mine pomegranate, hers cherry,
and I laugh at our images in the mirror,
the strange pearly gel sticking to our skin.
We find a sunny spot in the room
and for twenty minutes we lie there,
eyes closed, holding hands.
The package claims my skin will become
more hydrated, softer.
In truth, all of me is softer
as I give in to the slowness,
give in to the quiet, give in
to low warm light and let myself
be wholly here with my mom
as the masks make us look ridiculous
and the whole rest of the world
more beautiful.
A Choice I Never Noticed Before
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged dance, daughter, grace, grief on January 2, 2024| 15 Comments »
For no reason, this morning
I dance through the rooms,
my socks sliding on the wood floors
and I twirl and glide and chacha
as if the house is an empty stage.
I think of my daughter who chassés
and leaps—in toe shoes no less—
and I have none of her finesse,
and yet this morning something in me
says dance, though I woke
feeling broken, though I woke
wearing the great gray cloak of grief.
Who could say where it came from,
the impulse to shimmy, to raise
my arms above my head
and swirl my wrists and
fling back my neck till the grief
is light as gauze? I am grateful
for this mystery, how it saves me,
grateful for this inner beat that says,
dance, time to dance, dear woman,
you have everything to gain
in this moment if you dance.
Falling All the Way In
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged daughter, eternity, happiness, moment, mother, tenderness on January 2, 2024| 7 Comments »
Late, and I lie on the couch,
my head in mom’s lap,
eyelids heavy as she pulls
slender fingers through my hair,
and I am more loved
than lost, more soft
than strong, more flesh
than worry, more no self
than self. I am not
thinking of happiness,
which is, perhaps,
the truest kind of happiness.
The moment loses any lines
that might try to define
what a moment is
until all is suffused with eternity
and tenderness is uncontainable.
Her hands move slow
and the room is quiet
and the night is a nest
big enough to hold us all.
Questions for the New Year
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged new year, questions on January 1, 2024| 17 Comments »
Why not believe in magic?
Can I soften? Can I soften some more?
Does truth exist? How are stones alive?
What if I never learn
what happens when we die?
What’s the next nice thing
I can do for someone else?
What’s for breakfast? What’s at stake?
When I dream of my beloveds, is it them?
Where am I in my own way?
How might I be more river, less dam?
Which comes first, forgiveness or the peace?
Which comes last, unknowing or the known?
What is love? What is now? What is home?
What is it in us that knows how to wonder?
What is it in us that knows how to grow?
Who are we really? What is courage?
What’s worth it? What’s asked of me now?
Should I be in this moment a blade or a bloom?
What’s the nature of higher ground?
Can I ask without longing for answers?
Can I feel I am one with it all?
How does life live through me?
Can I be in service to that?
What do I believe I can’t give away?
What if I say nothing and listen?
Will I choose awe today?