Poets' Corner: Rosemerry For Valentine's Day
Did you know that over 50 million roses are given for Valentine’s Day each year? Personally I prefer the bouquet of poems Telluride Inside… and Out will be publishing this week, starting with the following exotic arrangement by beloved poet and friend Rosemerry Trommer, Telluride’s Word Woman. In these challenging times when love seems to have gotten lost in the fog of warring words, what’s love got to do with it? Everything per Rosemerry. Without denying the weight of the world, Rosemerry’s luminous, insightful poems suggest love – for self and for others, including a partner – is the only good choice. Choosing the light lightens a heavy heart.
In my heart, a mandolin
just waiting to be played—
there are music sheets,
ignore them. Doesn’t matter
if you know how to play.
What matters is you try.
What matters is you practice
tuning the strings
until you find the way
to make them sing.
What matters is that
we both know there’s
music in there just waiting
to be found and
your hands are curious,
Walking Through the Prehistoric Journey Exhibit
And again I recall how small we are,
how ninety nine percent of all species
that have ever lived are extinct,
how thin our stripe in geologic time,
how remarkable that we are here at all.
And suddenly all that matters
is that I love you—and what are the odds?
How many billion years in the making,
this rush of gratitude, this burgeoning
joy, this thrill in the sheer Cenozoic luck
to feel the concurrent burning and quenching,
the simultaneous bite and salve, the Quaternary
gift of thriving and failing at the same time?
If it feels as if it’s taken forever to get to this place,
lover, it has. Think trilobite. T-rex. Cave bear.
Wooly mammoth. Think how little time
has passed, and how lucky, how lucky we are.
Why I Move Slowly
Today the weight of love
is a basket of river rocks
I’ve chosen to carry.
Though it’s difficult
to walk with this weight,
there’s not one rock
I would throw aside,
each unique, treasured.
There are some who walk
with an empty basket.
Their burden is light.
They move quickly
along the path.
Me, I choose to carry
the weight of love.
On a Day When the World Has Its Way With Me
Like every day, this day
it is clear that only love
will save us. Not in the grandiose
abstract way, but in the alarmingly
specific way. As in forgiveness, now.
As in choosing to hold our own hand instead
of swinging back. As in taking
three deep breaths before saying
something we regret. Love saves us
from thirsting in the desert of our lives,
but only if we save it first by
choosing it, now in this moment
of angry words, now in this moment
of clenched thoughts, now in
this moment when we’d rather
taste venom, but instead, we
pour love into our cup and
bring it to our lips and drink
and drink until once again
only love makes sense,
only love refills the cup.
And sometimes when I move
at the edge of a greatness—
a lake or a sea or a mountainside—
my insignificance thrills me
and the largest of my sadnesses
dwindles smaller than the space
between grains of sand
and in that moment,
knowing my place,
comes a love so enormous
I can love anyone, anyone,
Between Intimacy and Independence
we become what we love and yet remain ourselves.
and this is how
the vessel learns
that though it’s full
there’s room for more—
those sides of us
we thought were walls
were well concealed
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