for Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Bless the unkind, the mean, the petty—
for they remind us how not to move
through our lives. True, we can allow
the anger of others to turn us bitter,
fool us into thinking the whole world
is made of nettles ready to sting us
wherever we touch. But let's instead
go around stubbornly praising those
whose hearts stay closed, though we
can't yet see the line of light shining
beneath the locked door, though we
can't quite trust that kindness stirs
in each of us like the child we were,
wanting only to run through a field
with friends at dusk, holding hands
and chasing the sun.
James Crews is the author of three collections of poetry, The Book of What Stays, Telling My Father, and Bluebird. He is also the editor of Healing the Divide: Poems of Kindness and Connection and How to Love the World: Poems of Gratitude and Hope. He lives with his husband in Shaftsbury, Vermont.
I love this poem, the charge of it, and how it moves from the first line to the last, taking me on what seems like an impossible journey sometimes. What a radical invitation. Thank you, James Crews.
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