Posted in Uncategorized, tagged dark, fire, light, peace, poem, poetry, warmth on January 4, 2019| 5 Comments »
Beside the fire, inside
the dark, and lost amidst
the tide of thoughts,
there is a momentary warmth
that steeps into our every inch
and make us doubt
that we could ever feel
sharp cold again—
the mind, thus warmed,
forgets to quarrel and simply
nestles closer—and the dark itself
comes nearer by and we
lean in together.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, conspiracy, joy, peace, poem, poetry, unity on October 18, 2018| 4 Comments »
You are warmly invited to join our conspiracy of joy,
a growing cabal of strangers and friends who collude
to create delight, who initiate random acts of bliss, who
scheme of ways to help all others find authentic jubilance,
who tear down walls that would separate us and them.
If you enjoy such subterfuge, there certainly is room
for you. To be clear, you may be charged with pleasure,
ecstasy, and truth. Next meeting, now. And now. And now
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged peace, poem, poetry on October 9, 2017| 1 Comment »
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Colorado Independent, peace, poem, poetry, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer on August 22, 2017| 5 Comments »
…in a time seemingly hellbent on hate? That’s what Phil Woods and I both explored through poems last week in our responses to Charlottesville. Please check out the poems today in the Colorado Independent. To read them, click news poetry. And please, if you are up for it, write a response. We need more conversations about what’s happening.
All the best,
Rosemerry
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged peace, poem, poetry, to do list on August 15, 2017| 5 Comments »
And there, on the to do list,
somewhere beneath “post office”
and above “pay the bills” is a single word
not yet crossed out. “Peace.”
You’ve written it in ink, as if
to offer it permanence,
an urgency that can’t be erased.
Every day, you look at it,
wondering if this is the day
that goodwill will come as easily
as changing the burned-out lightbulbs
or taking the garbage out.
You almost stop believing
you will ever cross it off.
After a while, it might seem
just like any other thing
you write on your list, then ignore—
like clean beneath the piano
or organize the garage.
But then the news will shake you,
will render your duties
small. And you’ll write it in
at the top of the list
in all caps, underlined in blue,
PEACE, not something to do,
but something to serve,
something to practice
as you move through the day,
something to inform the way
you fold the sheets, you drive
to town, you attend the meeting,
you make the call, you write
the letter, you do what must be done.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged parenting, peace, poem, poetry on January 21, 2017| 3 Comments »
Mommy, she says,
her face still warm in candlelight,
why did you start to cry—
and I hear not just curiosity
but the itchy vest of embarrassment.
I don’t tell her
the math of the world
is just too sad,
perhaps I cry more
because for a moment I believe
the words I tell her—
it’s going to be okay.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged darkness, light, peace, poem, poetry on December 18, 2016| Leave a Comment »
Let us lace our words with light—
the fragrant light we carry in our flesh.
Even the darkest words can be said
with light, can be spoken with a seam
of radiance, spoken as if the whole world
depends on us finding that inner shine
and sharing it.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged change, parenting, peace, poem, poetry, worry on November 14, 2016| Leave a Comment »
Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.
—Helen Keller
Three days after
I think the world
is coming apart,
in the back seat
of the car
my daughter
is improvised
by a song—
I eavesdrop
as she mumbles
along
to an accidental
tune,
change is
wonderful
change
is wonderful.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Nice, parenting, peace, poem, poetry on July 14, 2016| Leave a Comment »
Unable to undo or reverse the destruction,
I focus on the children I’m charged with.
Hey kids, I say, come sit with me.
I cannot hide that I have been weeping.
They have been fighting, all morning,
as children will, calling each other names
such as “stupid” and “jerk.”
They’ve been refusing to share,
asserting how right they are.
It starts here, I say. Peace begins with the way
that we treat our family and friends.
They are embarrassed by my tears.
My daughter sits on my lap, but looks away.
Stop it, Mom, she says. She slouches
and curls her thin back into my belly.
My son says nothing, then belches
to lighten the mood. I am too sincere.
I almost wish to laugh at myself,
to laugh at him, but instead,
I feel the warm weight of new tears
as they gather before they fall.
The boy beside me, their friend,
takes a big breath, then nods.
I know what you mean, he says.
One of them could have the hand
that pulls the trigger, I think.
One of them could feel righteous
enough to drive a truck into a crowd.
One of them might find the words
I cannot find, the ones that could change
someone else’s set mind,
the words that might turn us toward peace.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged peace, poem, warrior on December 9, 2015| 1 Comment »
