You would be jealous, I think,
of how your sister is learning trig,
speaking Spanish, playing bridge.
You’d probably tease her, but really,
what you’d be thinking is, She is so cool.
And she is, sweetheart. She’s fun
and silly. Like you. Only like her.
We talk about you, of course.
Just this weekend, we remembered
how once you said if a 99-pound person
ate a one-pound burger, they
would be one percent burger.
I wonder what percent of your sister
is grief? And what percentage love?
Tonight a girl asked her if she had any siblings.
She said, yes, a brother. When the girl
asked her how old you were, she told her
the truth. That you were seventeen
when you died. What a terrible gift
to learn how to say the hardest things straight.
I can’t help but think if you are watching her,
you, too, must be in awe of who she’s becoming.
Oh, how we learn to grow from whatever soil
we’ve been given. I do not pretend to know
how this works. I only know she
is learning to transform ache into beauty,
nightmare into dream. I only know
I long for her to know love from you
the way a garden feels loved by sun, by rain.
Posts Tagged ‘love’
Letter to My Son, Over Three Years Since He’s Gone
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged daughter, grief, love, memory, mother, siblings, son on March 5, 2025| 9 Comments »
A Wild Becoming
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged becoming, collaboration, Kellie Day, love, possibility, power, strength on March 1, 2025| 20 Comments »
And then came the day I discovered
a sky full of birds inside and around me,
all of them singing love, love, love.
Around my shoulders appeared
a cloak of stars going supernova.
In my womb swirled a chorus of waves.
How could I not have known I was
growing a crown of antlers?
How could I have missed
my whole life has been preparing me
to transform who I am for love?
Now all I want is to open enough
to let love do with me what it will.
I want to be in service to the radiance
that even now begins to shine through.
I want to lose what I thought I knew
of my story. And though fear is also here,
I want to surrender to the strange
and insistent voice of love saying,
These are the gifts you’ve been given.
Now, sweetheart, now, be the change.
—Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
*
Well, today was such fun, friends! I spent it with my friend Kellie Day (you can hear an interview I did with her on Emerging Form here), and we created these fabulous, powerful versions of ourselves (almost six feet tall!, using paint, collage, spray paint, marker). Between each stage of art, we wrote poems inspired by process, parts of which entered our paintings (see my word-lined cloak and Kellie’s “goddess bodice”). It was such a day of self-discovery, surprising potential and infinite possibility. Maybe you’d want to join us in person May 30 when we offer a class together? If yes, let me know and I can put you on a list for information.
Though No One Else Can See It
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged grief, love, tattoo on February 26, 2025| 8 Comments »
For a time I thought I wanted
a tattoo to remember you on my skin—
that was before I understood
how your life is already marked
into every cell, every breath,
how there is no part of me
not needled and stained
with your life, your story,
your silence, your presence,
your love, the wonder of you,
your weight in my arms, your name.
For When the Fall Feels Inevitable
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged anxiety, love, safety, tightrope, wings on February 25, 2025| 6 Comments »
The space
between this
moment and
the next
stretches like
a tightrope—
let my
love for
you be
not net,
but wings.
Poem in Which You Are Storm, I Am Meadow
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged change, love, meadow, snow, time, transformation on February 17, 2025| 6 Comments »
By noon
the snow
that changed
the world
from brown
to white
in just
a day
seems gone—
the meadow
however, remembers
the gift.
Come spring,
there will
be green.
The Turning
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ermine, humanity, love on February 17, 2025| 14 Comments »
I can’t think of a more powerful response to life’s sorrows than loving.
—Suleika Jaouad
When stories of the selfishness of humans
stain my thoughts like spilt gray ink, when
proofs of our cruelty grab me by the chest
and squeeze, squeeze until it hurts to breathe,
when I lament what we’re capable of,
this is when I most need to remember
it is also human to love.
Like today, when crushed by a thoughtless act,
I found myself atop a snow-covered pass
where I almost missed the sleek, white body
leaping across the vast white field,
and that chance spotting, that wonder,
that luck was all it took to fall in love again
with this world that somehow created a creature
that changes colors twice a year,
a creature that runs easily atop deep, new snow.
And as love raced through me
like a winter-white ermine, I, too,
was able to not sink in, to not get stuck
in what feels cold, dense and bottomless.
This was not a moment that will change the world,
but in this moment, loving the world changed me—
made me more than my fear and sadness,
turned me again toward the miracle.
Love Poem to the Things I Never Dreamt I Could Love
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged change, love, opening on February 15, 2025| 4 Comments »
Here’s to the eggplant that once made me retch.
I would never have believed I would crave you.
And here’s to skiing. I remember the concussion,
the night train, and now, in my blood, the elation.
Here’s to ranch dressing, which for years I called goop.
And here’s to black licorice, which I now I call bliss.
And here’s the to the night, which once frightened me.
Here’s to fiction. Coffee. Country music.
It feels good tonight to remind myself
how completely things can change.
Like how a woman who thought she could never
wear patterns now wears striped socks
and polka dot gloves. Sometimes what we love
changes so completely we can’t imagine our minds
and hearts were once so small. Tonight I dream
of what else might change. For me. For you. For us all.
One Valentine
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged intimacy, love, scent on February 13, 2025| 8 Comments »
in a room full of roses
my favorite scent
your skin
Even in a Time of Intolerance
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged authenticity, change, intolerance, kindness, love, responsibility on February 13, 2025| 17 Comments »
“We all have a part in shifting the story.”
—Joy Harjo, 23rd US Poet Laureate
There is, in an overfull classroom,
a woman teaching not only history,
but compassion. There’s a barista
making hearts in the foam
of every cappuccino she serves.
There’s man helping another man
on crutches as he struggles to cross
the icy street. There’s a library room full of women
chanting about praying for their enemy.
There are students raising money
to help those with breast cancer and AIDS.
Two girls are laughing for the joy of laughing
’til their faces are tear-streaked
and their ribs and bellies are sore.
There’s a poet who pours courage and music
into every word she shares with the world.
And another woman hears those words
and thinks, “Me. That poet is talking to me.”
This is how we change the world one kind act,
one true word, one long laugh at a time. Because
now, that woman is ablaze with wondering:
What is my part in shifting the story?
Even the Smallest Acts
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cooking, eggplant, love, small acts on February 9, 2025| 15 Comments »
With love, I score the insides of the eggplants
into diamond-shaped slashes and slather
the cut side with oil. With love, I crumble
tiny, fresh thyme leaves onto the sweating flesh,
then roast the halves till the dark, tight skin
pulls easily away. It’s heaven in the mouth,
the creamy, tender scoops of eggplant served
with garlicky buttermilk sauce and pomegranate seeds.
I want to believe even the smallest acts—
like sprinkling the tiniest bit of za’atar onto a dish
or sprinkling a real smile into any interaction
or making the call, or writing the letter—
yes, even the smallest acts can be part of
the greater change that infuses everything.