Essential Language
– After Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, The Unfolding
Why can I find no words in English
for elevated, rounded landscapes
larger than a hill
but smaller than a mountain?
I live surrounded by hills.
Anywhere I walk leads to a grade,
some steeper than others.
I need more nouns to celebrate
the uniqueness of these spaces.
Or another word for heal?
Such an important verb for us
these days. Cure doesn’t cut it
and the meaning is not the same.
Within our available lexicon,
I crave more words to describe
how I feel and what
and who I love.
Perceive isn’t sufficient.
Like, not profound enough.
Adore and worship, over the top.
I know I’m not the only one
bemoaning a lack
of adequate descriptors.
A few friends, out of desperation,
have begun creating their own.
Like pangloria—when even
in the face of despair, we can sense
a unity with everything.
Couldn’t we all use a word like that!
How in every circumstance,
we can find a reason for praise.
I Write
to know my own heart,
to better comprehend
my reason for coming here,
to relive moments of astonishment—
how the crescendo of waves builds
as I climb stairs from the beach,
the way smells of ocean breeze
and seaweed calm me
like time spent in meditation.
I write to honour communion
with the hills and my companions–
the seagulls, osprey and pelicans,
to ease grief when loss threatens
to overwhelm, to express the sorrow
faced by every living being
from those events that sweep us
off our feet, tidal waves
that materialize without warning.
I write when my spirit
is brimming with so much love,
it’s more than I can carry.
It could be a promise
made before I was born.
What if it’s my purpose?
The Gift of Words
– After Bunkong Toun, “The Rescue”
I.
She stops at a poem
that speaks of her wounds,
and weeps.
The wonder of words
as a way to express sorrow,
distress, and also awe.
In the hardest times,
after seeking solace in silence
and in the company
of a good friend, she turns
to what others have written
in their despair.
II.
Words soothe, like the telling
of a young sea otter pup
swimming in circles
off the pier, mewling
for his mother’s return
as she pushes to the ocean floor
in search of a clam to feed him.
How his whole small body shakes
with delight when she bursts
out of the water,
pulls him onto her soft front,
and backstrokes away.
Metaphorically Speaking
Imagine curiosity is a trowel,
courage, a mailbox,
mercy, an unpainted room,
honesty, a glass bottle.
What if nature is a non-renewable battery,
peace, the lost sock in your drawer,
sorrow, a train track through a frozen field,
the search for wisdom, a plastic knife.
What if energy is the golden key to the body,
compassion, a canoe paddle,
laughter, a dust cloth for the soul,
forgiveness, a blackboard.
Imagine hope is an unbroken fossil
found in crumbling rock.
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image: schucke