Skip to main content

INTO THE DARK AGAIN by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

 Here we are, entering into the longest nights of the year…

Though we have created our world so that we might have light all the time, the darkness still finds its way into our psyche, into our soul. What a gift it is to wrestle with ourselves, though it doesn’t always feel like a gift.

There are two poems that radically shifted my own perception of darkness: Rumi’s “Night Goes Back” and Rilke’s “You Darkness.” In both of the poems, the poets declare to the night and the dark, “I love you.” I remember at first being shocked by this, but perhaps that shock is part of what helped to cut a door into darkness that I, too, could eventually walk through. 

Into the Dark Again
by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

Dark and getting darker—
nothing to do but to make of the body
a home for darkness,
to open every secret drawer
where we hide our private darknesses.
Who knows what might happen then?
How immeasurable we are. It is only
terrifying until it becomes freedom.
Grace comes in the strangest costumes.
Did you really think you didn’t need help?
This night, stay awake.
Some things we can see no other way.


Western Slope Poet Laureate  Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer's  poetry has appeared in O Magazine, in back alleys, on A Prairie Home Companion and in her children’s lunch boxes. Her most recent collection is “The Less I Hold.” She’s taught poetry for Think 360, Craig Hospital, Hospice, Ah Haa School for the Arts, Weehawken Arts, Camp Coca Cola, and many other organizations. She served as San Miguel County’s first poet laureate and directed the Telluride Writers Guild for 10 years. She has won the Fischer Prize, has twice won the Writer’s Studio Literary Contest, won the Dwell Press Solstice Prize, was a finalist for the Colorado Book Award, and has been nominated three times for a Pushcart Prize. She curates “Heard of Poets,” an interactive poetry map of Western Colorado poets. Since 1999, she’s performed with Telluride’s seven-woman acappella group, Heartbeat, and since 2006, she’s written a poem a day. Her MA is in English Language and Linguistics. Favorite one-word mantra: AdjustVisit her website here for ideas about writing, and to read her daily poems click here. 


~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~ 

Comments

  1. Oy! It's been nearly three years; my apologies for the delay. (Time is interesting stuff.)
    I have a personal and deep connection with this poem. It's a poem I've memorized, and continually recite to myself, ensuring it never leaves me. A co-worker who was going through yet another rough patch received a copy of this poem, anonymously, (I'm not saying who might have sent it to him.), letting him know he's far from alone.
    So I'm so delighted seeing it's made its way into yet another circle, for, "Some things we can see no other way."

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

FOR TARA by Penn Kemp

FOR TARA
*
Goddess of Compassion and Wisdom, I need to recall,  reclaim you, invite you to return to my heart. Come back  to my heart, Love, where you are home. There’s room. 
There is room enough for two, for multitudes. For you.  Become me, I beg you. Worry my concern into peace.  Shake this rag doll out of stiff contrition back to joy. 
Till bones, blood, marrow, mind all leap up to dance,  to expand and mingle with the greater Presence, gift  we are heir to if we remember to remember the Whole. 
The whole that made us, not that hole I fall into.  From her celestial seat in the Pure Land, Tara smiles, extending a hand of pure blessing, her invitation. Up.



Penn Kemp--poet, performer and playwright--has been active in Canada’s literary scene since her first publication of poetry, Bearing Down, by Coach House (1972). As well as editing Canada’s first anthology of women’s writing, IS 14 (1973), many of her books have been devoted to the goddess in all her guises. Kemp has been lauded as a trailblaze…

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness…
Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather all of life into your inner c…

I LIGHT THIS CANDLE by Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg

As we enter into Winter Solstice, the darkest of all nights, I light this candle...
This candle represents the flame that I light upon my prayer altar. This flame represents the light of my soul's glow, though at times it feels as though the dark can consume me. This flame represents the fierce fire of my heart forever burning with infinite love. Light that becomes my beacon in my winter; both figuratively and literally. Though winter clothes us with dark, we enter deep to the sacred space of our being; our eternal glow. 


I Light This Candle by Maureen Kwiat Mehsenberg
I light this candle,
calling to the void of me-
the brilliant glow of my soul,
what is unknown and silent-
in shadows so deep
flame of my returning now calling me.
I light this candle,
to the intentions of me-
fragments of my changing,
what illuminates the empty spaces between -
I enter them becoming whole.
I light this candle,
for the dark of me-
reaching through the blackness,
looking for that slit of light-
in my darkest of nights,