Note to Self above the Paradox Valley

“You do not need to know what comes next.

There is always another storm, and you

cannot hang the tent out to dry before

it has gotten wet.  You cannot shovel snow

that has yet to fall.


Put down the shovel.  Breathe

into the dark spaces of your back,

feel how they open like cave doors

to let in the light.

Let your face soften.  Let the creases

fall out of your brow.  The mind,

no matter how clear, will never become

a crystal ball.


Whatever is wisest in you knows to run

when it hears the first crashes of rock fall.

It does not pause then to consider

metamorphic or igneous,

nor does it hesitate to wonder

what might have pushed them down.

It is no small thing to trust yourself.


It is right that love should shake your body,

that you should find yourself trembling

in the rubble and dust

after all your certainties come down.


But your breath has not left you.

Here is the morning rain.  It opens

the scent of the leaves, of the air.

All around you the world is changing.


What are you waiting for?

Here is the cup of mint tea

growing stronger in itself.

Here on this cliff of uncertainty

there is stillness in you

so spirited, so alive

that whatever is wisest in you

is dancing.”

–Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

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