Mindful Musings Blog

Poems of Presence – Dec 2020

Mindfulness is an act of love we give ourselves and the world. These verses punctuate our weekly class explorations of embodying our highest intentions, inside and out.


Love, (Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer)

Though I am undeniably broken,
I come to you with no need to be fixed.
I come to you the way one river
meets another river--not joining
out of thirst, but because
there is so much power
and beauty in giving oneself
to another, in moving
through the world together.
I come to you the way the half moon
comes into the yard--I could be more
whole, but in the meantime,
I will bring you everything
I have.

(Naomi Shihab Nye)

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

(Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer)

Some mornings, when the sun
has just begun to slip
into my room, I swear

that it encourages me
as I try to hide beneath the sheets.
You can do it, the light seems to say.

It does not mention, not even once,
all the darkness it has traveled through
just to arrive at this window

so that it might warm my face
and suggest there is so much
more light to be found.

A Cushion for your Head

Just sit there right now
Don't do a thing
Just rest.

For your separation from God,
From love,

is the hardest work
In this

Let me bring you trays of food
And something
That you like to

You can use my soft words
As a cushion
For your