Vox Populi
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Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer: Design
Imagine the self as a canyon in the making,
once solid, and then, ongoingly,
made more spacious, shaped by water,
by wind, by forces beyond its control.
Whatever is sacred, I feel it in canyons,
these earthen temples to surrender—
such holy architecture
with their deep and ancient silence,
with their steep and crumbling walls.
How sacred the angle of light
as it enters from the rim and slants
through the belly of air.
Sacred, too, the shadows,
like those most secret parts of ourselves
that never see light.
When I think of the self as a canyon,
it is easier to believe I, too,
can be made more spacious
through surrender, the shape of my life
an ever-changing record of where I resist
and where I release,
oh this practice I am still learning
to trust, this erosion of self
into reverence.
~~~~
Copyright 2025 Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer lives with her husband and daughter in Placerville, Colorado, on the banks of the wild and undammed San Miguel River. She served as San Miguel County’s first poet laureate (2007-2011) and as Western Slope Poet Laureate (2015-2017). Her many collections of poetry include The Unfolding.
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“this erosion of self into reverence” – oh Rosemerry, what a prayer to carry with me. I am not familiar with canyons up north here, but I could feel the sacredness in your words. Your poems are such gifts and I am grateful.
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“shaped by water”–yes, and those last two lines–oh! ❤️
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Rosemerry shapes the experience so expertly.
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“Whatever is sacred, I feel it in canyons,these earthen temples to surrender—”
This gives me a new way to think about canyons, which I also love exploring, but had not thought of in that way. Earthen temples to surrender. Something I can feel even in the smallest arroyo out in the California desert, on land a close friend is protecting, a place I go as often as I can.
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I love this invigorating poem that begins with imagining and finishes with reverence. And along the way eloquently offers openings to awe, sacred mergers of earth and self. In this life, my own sense of connection with the holy often comes from prayers or poems set along riverbanks, giving thanks to what flows below. Canyons, a new related metaphor or design. Thanks for opening new vistas. Other commenters do a great job connecting to the poem. A beautiful dialogue for us all.
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It is a beautiful poem.
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thank you for this observation–beginning in imagining and ending with reverence. I am always interested in how a poem moves, and you’ve helped me see my own poem in a new way …
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You do it so beautifully, dear Rosemerry: gifting your poems about your journeys, thoughts, questions & longings to us all — & in which we all, feel seen, heard & loved. Thank you, dear one.
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Amazing you, dear Laure-Anne, I am so grateful to be in this world of journeys and thoughts and questions and longings with YOU … thank you for making me feel seen and heard and loved.
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Beautiful poem. Yes, canyons and eroded depths have always been enticing and beautiful to me; wind, water, tremblers, temperature fluctuations are mother Earths artists. I still remember from fifty-odd years ago, being mesmerized by Bryce Canyon and sleeping near the rim of Dead Horse Point park on a cold spring night. I, too, try to let myself be shaped, carved without too much resistance by those forces that shape us.
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Lovely, thanks, Leo.
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Lovely. Thanks, Leo.
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Oh, Bryce Canyon! Such a stunning place … my husband and I, too, went to Dead Horse Point on a cold spring day … I love how these landscapes become us and become points of connection!
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Yes, nature; the tie that binds.
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Thank you. I sent this to my pastor son, something Buddhist mom and Christian son can share.
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Barbara, this makes me so happy. I am always glad, too, to find poems that speak equally to me and my very Christian mom!
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Oh I needed this today. To let the erosion of self, to be made more spacious, to invite the wind’s wisdom to bellow through me. I love this poem, a new favorite. I’ll walk all day imaging myself as full and hollow as a canyon.
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Beautiful poet, beautiful friend, beautiful canyon of a man, ❤️❤️❤️ hugs to you from across the state.
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Rosemerry: I have been considering shadow and light on my “walk” to the horizon. I love this etude of what is and isn’t there, the latter somehow becoming more important as there are fewer steps ahead than behind. We must come to reckon with shadows, it wasn’t always so. You’re a wonderful accompanist in this task.
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So exactly, Sean–what is and isn’t there … the latter becoming more important. Thank you.
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Thank you so much for this meditation and prayer to the sacred earth. Like the canyon, your poem helps me believe “I can be more spacious.”
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Thank you so much for this meditation and prayer to the sacred earth. Like the canyon, your poem helps me believe “I can be more spacious.”
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Yes, I think it is both meditation and prayer … thank you Mary, for your kind response!
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Having traversed the Grand Canyon rim to rim three times, I get it. It was a sacred journey into myself, realizing in those wordless moments how awed we can be in the presence of incomprehensibility. Rosemerry, thank you.
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Thank you, friend, yes, the Grand Canyon is such a sacred place, such an invitation to awe!
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