On July 2, 2025, Tabatha Yeatts (this week's Poetry Friday host) sent me an email about a Poetry Workshop at 7 pm that I might be interested in attending. One hour before the workshop began, I emailed Jena at Evermore and inquired about "The Mystery of Grief-Writing into the Loss" with Evermore Poet Laureate Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer. I was happy to join the Zoom event on short notice. Over 45 attendees were on the Zoom call. Each person experienced grief in different ways. Rosemerry, the poet presenter, was a caring poet with a genuine spirit who encouraged everyone to write for themselves. I heard the words, "Today, grief is settling in my heart". With this prompt, I knew I was in the right place.
During the two-hour workshop, there were poems to listen to, comments to be made on Zoom or in the chat box, writing time, and small group chats. Rosemerry led us through each step in her calm manner, encouraging everyone to use as many senses as we could when writing. Prompts such as "Write directly to grief and about it.", and "What is your relationship to grief?" were shared. The small groups opened the door to deeper conversation. There was something solemn and safe about being with a community of people who experienced grief in their lives. Rosemerry let us know that she also felt the pangs of grief at an earlier time, but she continually smiled sharing her hopes with us. You can read about Rosemerry at her website. In her Daily Dose of Poetry section, there is one poem that really touched me.
It's the Forth of July Again July 3, 2025
And I didn't go buy fireworks today. Not yesterday, either. Nor will I buy them tomorrow because you will not be here to light them. I realize now what I loved about fireworks was how much you loved them, the way you brightened when the fuse was first lit, the way you glowed near incandescent as the sparks and colors fountained and flashed. And […]. -Rosemerry
During the 15-minute writing section of the workshop, I composed the following quick write prose poem based on Rosemerry's prompt suggestions:
All I know is grief comes with a sigh, caught between sorrow and acceptance. It floats on memories that settle in my heart. Grief tugs, flows, and drops words like acorns quietly falling from autumn trees. Grief knows no boundaries. It is heavy until the day it moves on. It never removes itself totally, at least not now in the raw stage that I am in. - CVarsalona, 7/2/2025
Post-Workshop Thoughts:
I have felt the pain of loss and overwhelming sadness about losing my husband so unexpectedly. Yet, tears don't flow as much now with help coming from faith. "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Psalm 147:3 is comforting and allows me to hope that it will bring renewal. I thank Evermore and Rosemerry for The Mystery of Grief-Writing into the Loss workshop. It was a safe spot to speak to others who understand grief as an emotion that surrounds life during this new, raw period. Rosemerry's soft voice, story, and songs inspired me to pen the following poem a few days later.
Post-Workshop Inspirational Quote and a Golden Shovel Poem:
Carol, I love this post. I think that there is safety in a group that understands a condition such as grief from experience. I'm so glad that you were able to be in that sacred space with others who understand. These words, "the way you glowed" from Rosemary's poem spoke to me. It's not necessarily the memory of a thing but how a loved one interacted or responded to a thing that is the sharp edge of a memory. It's what make the words in your golden shovel, "our summers," so poignant. Well done.
ReplyDeleteLinda, thank you for your comment. I really liked your response to Rosemerry's words from her poem "the way you glowed" so I will store that in my digital journal=>"It's not necessarily the memory of a thing but how a loved one interacted or responded to a thing that is the sharp edge of a memory."
DeleteIt's so loving that Tabatha sent you the link and you were able to be a part of this group, Carol. Thinking through your own grief, then listening to others must have offered warmth and support to you, something needed every day. I like your poem's ending, "Who says we walk alone. . ."
ReplyDeleteCarol, I'm so glad you got to attend the workshop and that it helped you along your journey. Thank you for sharing with us. xo
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you were able to attend this workshop, it sounds like it was a very moving experience. A dear friend of mine sadly lost her father around the same time mine passed a few years back, and we clung to each other through to process of working through our own grief and supporting our families. While grief is so deeply individual and personal, there's also something so powerful about exploring it with others who have walked similar paths.
ReplyDeleteThat group sounds wonderful. I'm glad you found out about it in time. Thank you for sharing your writing and the excerpt from Rosemerry. I'm particularly struck by your words "grief comes with a sigh, caught between sorrow and acceptance." You've described something intangible eloquently.
ReplyDeleteOnce again, the value and worth of this community shines. I'm so glad you got to attend this conference, I'm so glad Tab told you about it, and I'm so glad your heart received from it the necessary ballast to write a poem of hope and confirmation in your Foundation, confident to lean on everlasting arms. Thank you for sharing your blessing. -🦋tanita
ReplyDeleteOh, Carol, how kind and loving of Tabatha to reach out, and how fortunate that you were free and able to attend the workshop. I've read some of Rosemerry Wahtrola Trommer's work and have loved it. This is all so beautiful and your Golden Shovel, with Peguy's words, is so moving. ❤️
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this with us, Carol. Communities can provide such necessary support.
ReplyDeleteRosemerry is the best, isn't she? So glad you were able to be there and draw solace from it. I like your comparison: "like acorns quietly falling from autumn trees." Really lovely.
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