Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems

Exploring the world of life and grief through poetry.

Tag: Transformation

  • Reaching for Light in Times of Darkness

    Reaching for Light in Times of Darkness

    Inspired by the Images from the James Webb Telescope

    When this world becomes too much,
    with its barrage of news of cruelty,
    and I’ve done all that is within my power to change,
    I stretch my arms out to the universe,
    and let myself be drawn into the beauty
    of far-off galaxies,
    images that are sent back to earth
    from the space telescope wandering around the sun.
    I lose myself in the brilliance of the nebulae
    that are light years away,
    where stars begin and end their lives in the dust of space.
    The vivid colors dance across the cosmos,
    unconstrained by the pettiness of humankind,
    for we are mere specks in the grand design.
    And yet, I must shine my light, too,
    in this place that I call home.

  • On Visiting a Garden Shop

    On Visiting a Garden Shop

    The task was simple.
    Buy air filters and a tomato cage for my blossoming plant.
    But I forgot about the siren song that would greet me
    upon entering the garden section,
    with its intoxicating array of flowers in bloom,
    singing for me to draw near and bring them home.
    I did not have the wisdom of Odysseus to prepare
    for my voyage along the aisles of yellow and purple daisies,
    pink snapdragons, and fuchsia dianthus.
    The white and rosy cacti blooms,
    beckoned, if only to be photographed.
    For they shine briefly before retreating
    until spring comes again.
    The sweet warm air was a balm for my soul
    as I took in the majestic display of flowers
    before summoning the strength to leave
    with just four flowering containers
    to add to my assortment of
    patio potted plants,
    who are always ready for more company.

  • Relentless Appreciation

    Relentless Appreciation

    Finding Joy After Loss

    When the heart breaks open from the searing pain of
    unbearable loss and the walls crumble to the ground,
    the unimaginable happens:
    relentless appreciation for what is left behind.
    It streams from my soul with the force of a tsunami.
    My love for those I meet in person and online has grown,
    and I feel joy when I spend time in their presence.
    My soul is filled with peace as I traverse the garden path,
    captivated by the beauty of the flowering plants
    and the perfumed, soaked air they create.
    I watch the flying creatures with fascination as they busy themselves finding food and building homes.
    I love the sound of birdsong, whether I’m wandering outside
    or enjoying their symphony from inside my home.
    For knowing there is but a short time
    between birth and death, I breathe in deeply
    all that life has to offer me.

  • Letting Go, Finding Freedom

    Letting Go, Finding Freedom

    “Letting go is what keeps you alive.” Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, from “When Living on a Tiny Island.”

    I squeezed my hands so tight that my knuckles turned white,
    leaving red moon crescents imprinted on my palms.
    Hoping that I could stop time,
    and everything that lay ahead of me.
    How foolish to think that I had so much power.
    And yet, that was my habit,
    the insanity that I had always employed
    with no success.
    It took time to release my death grip,
    learning from the wisdom of others
    that the only influence that I possessed
    was over my own behaviors and thoughts.
    Frankly, my brain can still be
    the most dangerous neighborhood to visit.
    When I slowly let go of that which I couldn’t control,
    my body began to relax, and I could breathe again.
    I learned that love was holding people in my heart,
    no matter what our relationship was.
    Giving them the dignity to follow their own path
    freed me to follow mine.

  • Befriending Tears

    Befriending Tears

    Inspired by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer’s poem, “Gold Medal”

    “Don’t cry,” they said. “They wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
    So, I hid my tears in the solitude of my room,
    away from prying eyes.
    Not wanting to upset someone else.
    Wanting to appear strong for those who counted on me.
    For I remember seeing the infrequent tears of my parents,
    and how distressing it was for me.
    But hiding my sorrow was a disservice
    to those I love and myself.
    For crying and strength are compatriots,
    part of being human.
    And though I’ve been a sensitive soul
    who has wept easily most of my life,
    I no longer feel the need to be in the closet.
    For there are so many things that bring tears to my eyes.
    Acts of kindness are always at the top of the list.
    The songs that touch my heart,
    sometimes for their mere beauty
    or because they bring back a bittersweet memory.
    The beauty that exists in nature.
    Or tears that come unbidden when I ache
    for my loved ones who are no longer here.
    Being my authentic self means
    that not only am I free to express my tears,
    but I also laugh from the depth of my being,
    and love with the intensity of a million suns.