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Where We Are Headed by Rosemerry Trommer

My Mom and I often give names to the flowers in our garden, some variation of their given names or a description of the feelings they evoke. This poem resonates with me. The true experience is that the flowers work together collectively to bring joy. Not separate joys. When the lines are blurred, the larger experience is a soulful blessing.

At first we just say flower. How thrilling it is to name. Then it’s aster. Begonia. Chrysanthemum.

We spend our childhood learning to separate one thing from another. Daffodil. Edelweiss. Fern. We learn

which have five petals, which have six. We say, “This is a gladiolus, this hyacinth.” And we fracture the world into separate

identities. Iris. Jasmine. Lavender. Divorcing the world into singular bits. And then, when we know how to tell

one thing from another, perhaps at last we feel the tug to see not what makes things different, but

what makes things the same. Perhaps we feel the pleasure that comes when we start to blur the lines—

and once again everything is flower, and by everything, I mean everything.

From hush (Middle Creek Publishing & Audio, 2020). Please visit Rosemerry's site to sign up for one of her poems each day.

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