poems - ResonantHealing.space

Hope from an Owl

resonanthealing — Fri, 27 Dec 2024 09:48:50 +0000

Hopelessness is like getting your skin wet and exposed in winter – all the heat leaches out of you, and the ice finds your heart, and that is that. But on solstice night, I heard the faint hooting of the owl. Even more than that, I heard the promise of renewal whispered in the tones […]

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no matter what they say

resonanthealing — Mon, 11 Nov 2024 10:57:47 +0000

No Matter What They Say

You do not have to get over it.
You will carry your grief
and be carried by loss
in any way the carrying happens.
As if you had a choice.
Grief builds rooms inside you
no one else will ever see,
rooms with doors
only you can pass through
filled with songs or silence
only you can hear.
Rest here. Or dance here.
Shout. Or whisper. Rise
like milkweed seeds on the wind.
Or lie. Here, you can only do it right.
Here, there are no other eyes
or ears to tell you what to do
or how long it will take
or what choices to make.
And if you are weeping, weep.
And if you are dry, you are dry.
The rest of the world
can talk about stages
of grief and how it should be,
but you, you do not have to listen.

—Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

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A Bee’s Advice

resonanthealing — Sun, 13 Oct 2024 21:24:09 +0000

A Bee’s Advice

Seek beauty.
Gather goodness.
Transform it into
something golden.
Make enough to feed
your community
and beyond.

Sting when necessary.

Repeat.

~Kelly Chripczuk

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when I am among the trees

resonanthealing — Mon, 07 Oct 2024 20:02:29 +0000

When I am Among the Trees

Mary Oliver

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It's simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”

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for when people ask

resonanthealing — Sun, 06 Oct 2024 13:07:57 +0000

For When People Ask

I want a word that means
   okay and not okay,
     a word that means
devastated and stunned with joy.
   I want the word that says
     I feel it all all at once.
The heart is not like a songbird
   singing only one note at a time,
     more like a Tuvan throat singer
able to sing both a drone
   and simultaneously
     two or three harmonics high above it—
a sound, the Tuvans say,
   that gives the impression
     of wind swirling among rocks.
The heart understands the swirl,
   how the churning of opposite feelings
     weaves through us like an insistent breeze
leads us wordlessly deeper into ourselves,
   blesses us with paradox
     so we might walk more openly
into this world so rife with devastation,
   this world so ripe with joy.

–Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

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the patience of ordinary things

resonanthealing — Sun, 06 Oct 2024 12:41:58 +0000

The Patience of Ordinary Things

Pat Schneider

It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
Or toes. How soles of feet know
Where they’re supposed to be.
I’ve been thinking about the patience
Of ordinary things, how clothes
Wait respectfully in closets
And soap dries quietly in the dish,
And towels drink the wet
From the skin of the back.
And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?

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river of life

resonanthealing — Sun, 06 Oct 2024 12:06:24 +0000

I’d love to live
like a river flows,
carried by the surprise
of its own unfolding.

John O’Donohue

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what can I say?

resonanthealing — Sun, 15 Sep 2024 12:27:13 +0000

what can I say?

What can I say?
What can I say that I have not said before?
So I’ll say it again.
The leaf has a song in it.
Stone is the face of patience.
Inside the river there is an unfinishable story
and you are somewhere in it
and it will never end until all ends.
Take your busy heart to the art museum and the
chamber of commerce
but take it also to the forest.
The song you heard singing in the leaf when you
were a child
is singing still.
I am of years lived, so far, seventy-four,
and the leaf is singing still.

Mary Oliver

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amen

resonanthealing — Sun, 15 Sep 2024 11:03:58 +0000

” When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be”

This time it was the lyrics of Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer “Amen” reminding me how to be.

Amen

When I forget that the whole world
is holy, even the tiny dark bugs
that slip through window screens
and flock and stick to kitchen lights,
even the charred black remains of forest,
even the river as it floods bright red,
even when my cheeks are tear-stained
and my body tightens with fear,
that is when a kind letter from a stranger
arrives in the mail, or the rabbit will stand
on his back legs to nibble on mint,
or the meadow will blaze with the day’s
last slant of sunlight and my heart opens
so wide that inside the fear rises praise.

~Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

Poetry is one of resonant language modalities, which means that it brings our relational right brain to be more alive, more connected and “makes our brain kinder place to live”. Poems that I am sharing here were part of resonant healing sessions and healing either for me or the other participant of the session. I am sharing them further to spread resonance, healing and empathy to the world.

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Roads to healing

resonanthealing — Mon, 02 Oct 2023 08:03:11 +0000

Each one of us has its own roads to healing. We are all fractals of healing. These are the gifts from one of the sessions, where client shared what are their ways of accessing self resonant space.

“There is no substitute for human-to-human warmth, but we all have different roads to healing. If reading is giving you any aha moments or helping you feel compassion for yourself, you are creating new connections in your brain that support increased well-being.”
Sarah Peyton
Your Resonant Self p. 194

“ It was so good that at times she would tell herself: I must remember, I must record for myself, how good it is, in case things go wrong again. But she knew in her heart that it was as impossible to recall the good times during the bad, as it was to recall the bad during the good. One moved from one state to another helplessly, in forgetfulness, with merely a dry shadowy knowledge of the other, as unlike the real thing as a dried hard seed pod, a hard dry brittle box full of small black seeds of forgetfulness, is unlike the living flower. At times, during the flowering, one could hear the dry seeds rattle, ominously; moods, depressions, meaningless distortions of consciousness. This was why she persevered, and tried to make a conscious effort to control the process, remember the moments, to store them and preserve them, as though she could in some way carry them with her through the dark winter when it closed in; like a talisman, a seed, a pledge of unimaginable spring. For how had the first sowers ever learnt to trust the wheat to survive the winter? On such acts of faith has human life been built. And if the spring were never to come again, she told herself, I must at least know that it has been.
The Realms of Gold by Margaret Drabble

Love After Love

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
Derek Walcott published in 1976

This picture was generated by the AI from the prompt “roads to healing through books reading and embrace of humanity”.

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