Poems & Quotes

Often times, I’ll share poems with my clients at the end of session if I feel they may benefit from it or it is applicable to what they are experiencing.

Poems can be powerful as they can help us connect to our own experiences, feelings, and thoughts.

It can also help us heal by encouraging us to express ourselves in a way that’s congruent to us. Perhaps through our own writing or journaling.

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An open notebook with handwritten notes and a pen resting on it, placed on a tree stump in a grassy field with a background of tall grass and trees under a clear sky.

life, healing & growth

Life, Healing & Growth

Click on each box below to expand and read the poem.

Click on the link to directly view the poem by the author.

  • “Things that are perfect

    are dead things.

    Empty things.

    A silence beyond change or challenge.

    An endpoint.

    A blank page.

    You are a wonderful messy thing.

    An impossible thing made of salt

    and rainwater.

    Meat and electricity.

    A dream with teeth.

    You’re too good for perfection.”

    credits to Jarod Anderson, The Field Guide to the Haunted Forest

  • credits to David Whyte

    Read here

  • credits to Jelaluddin Rumi

  • There is no controlling life.


    Try corralling a lightning bolt,
containing a tornado. 

    Dam a
 stream and it will create a new
channel. 

    Resist, and the tide 
will sweep you off your feet.


    Allow, and grace will carry
 you to higher ground. 

    The only
 safety lies in letting it all in –
the wild and the weak; fear, 
fantasies, failures and success.


    When loss rips off the doors of 
the heart, or sadness veils your
 vision with despair, practice 
becomes simply bearing the truth.


    In the choice to let go of your
 known way of being, the whole
 world is revealed to your new eyes.

    - Danna Faulds

  • credits to Vera Agnes

    Read here

  • credits to Maria Sabina

  • credits to Mary Oliver

    Read here

  • credits to Mary Oliver

  • credits to Wendy Cope

    Read here

  • credits to Carl Sandburg

    Read here

  • credits to Rainer Maria Rilke

    Read here

  • When despair for the world grows in me

    and I wake in the night at the least sound

    in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be

    I go and lie down where the wood drake

    rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

    I come into the peace of wild things

    who do not tax their lives with forethought

    of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

    And I feel above me the day-blind stars

    waiting with their light. For the time

    I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

    - Wendell Berry

  • If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,

    don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty

    of lives and whole towns destroyed or about

    to be. We are not wise, and not very often

    kind. And much can never be redeemed.

    Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this

    is its way of fighting back, that sometimes

    something happens better than all the riches

    or power in the world. It could be anything,

    but very likely you notice it in the instant

    when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the

    case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid

    of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.

    - Mary Oliver

  • credits to David Whyte

  • What's gone has made you what you are

    So don't fear what's ahead

    Put trust in what will be, will be

    And choose to live instead

    Don't live in the now worrying

    What may or may not be

    Take this moment in your time

    And live it totally

    There's no time like the present

    Breathe deep and feel alive

    Living in the here and now

    Will help you rise and thrive

    Now is all there ever is It's the only time that's real

    Let the future take it's course

    And leave the past to heal

    credits to Vanessa Hughes

  • credits to Portia Nelson

  • credits to Hafez

  • credits to David Whyte

  • Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,

    There is a field. I'll meet you there.

    When the soul lies down in that grass,

    The world is too full to talk about.

    Ideas, language, even the phrase each other

    Doesn't make any sense.

    - Hafiz

  • It only takes a reminder to breathe,

    a moment to be still, and just like that,

    something in me settles, softens, makes

    space for imperfection. The harsh voice

    of judgment drops to a whisper and I

    remember again that life isn’t a relay

    race; that we will all cross the finish

    line; that waking up to life is what we

    were born for. As many times as I forget,

    catch myself charging forward

    without even knowing where I’m going,

    that many times I can make the choice

    to stop, to breathe, and be, and walk

    slowly into the mystery

    - Danna Faulds

  • credits to Ijeoma Umebinyuo

  • credits to Charles C. Finn

  • credits to Shane Koyczan

    Read here

  • It isn’t as easy as being “something that happened to you”

    A package you opened once

    You will wake up in a new zip code

    Have to wander your way home

    Carry a few of the things you love to this new place you live in now

    So you buy throw pillows

    You put up twinkle lights and have a big celebration

    Point at the open windows and tell everyone who has ever seen you crying,

    “Look! Look how I have not caged myself!

    Look what I have built out of two paint buckets and the blessing of my still here body!”

    But trauma leans into the bar cart

    Spills a drink on the new rug

    Breaks off the door handle on his way out

    Trauma sends you letters without warning for the rest of your life just so you remember

    Trauma knows exactly where you live

    Who did you think built the house?

    credits to Brenna Twohy

  • The pain that made you

    the odd one out

    is the story

    that connects you

    to a healing world.

    credits to Tanya Markul

  • You do not have to be good.
    You do not have to walk on your knees
    for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
    You only have to let the soft animal of your body
    love what it loves.
    Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
    Meanwhile the world goes on.
    Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
    are moving across the landscapes,
    over the prairies and the deep trees,
    the mountains and the rivers.
    Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
    are heading home again.
    Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
    the world offers itself to your imagination,
    calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–
    over and over announcing your place
    in the family of things.

    credits to Mary Oliver

  • “Hope” is the thing with feathers -

    That perches in the soul -

    And sings the tune without the words -

    And never stops - at all -

    And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

    And sore must be the storm -

    That could abash the little Bird

    That kept so many warm -

    I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

    And on the strangest Sea -

    Yet - never - in Extremity,

    It asked a crumb - of me.


    credits to Emily Dickinson

  • Come new to this day.
    Remove the rigid overcoat of experience,
    the notion of knowing,
    the beliefs that cloud your vision.

    Leave behind the stories of your life.
    Spit out the sour taste of unmet expectation.
    Let the stale scent of what-ifs waft back into the swamp
    of your useless fears.

    Arrive curious, without the armor of certainty,
    the plans and planned results of the life you’ve imagined.
    Live the life that chooses you,
    new every breath, every blink of your astonished eyes.

    credits to Rebecca del Rio

  • I am not the sum

    of all my mistakes,

    nor the product

    of other people's hatred.

     

    I am a story

    in the making,

    a symphony

    still in composition.

     

    I am not defined

    by my suffering,

    nor limited

    by my wounds.

     

    I am a healer,

    a reconciler,

    a bringer of peace

    to my own heart.

     

    I am not perfect,

    but I am worthy

    of love and compassion,

    both from myself

    and from others

    credits to The Compassionate Self  by Pádraig Ó Tuama

  • are you okay

    they ask 

     

    I respond 

    as quickly 

    as I can 

    so they will not

    notice the earthquakes 

    in my voice 

    or the tsunamis 

    in my eyes 

    or the drought 

    in my heart

     

    Ellen Everett 

  • If you are one who has practice
    meeting the pain of the world,
    we need you. Right now we need you
    to teach us it is possible to swallow
    what is weighty and still be able to rise.
    We need you to remind us we can
    be furious and scared and near feral
    over injustice and still thrill at the taste
    of a strawberry, ripe and sweet,
    can still meet a stranger and shake
    their hand, believing in their humanness.
    We need you to show us how
    we, too, can fall into the darkest,
    unplumbed pit and learn there
    a courage and beauty
    we could never learn from the light.
    If you have drowned in sorrow
    and still have somehow found
    a way to breathe, please, lead us.
    You are the one with the crumbs
    we need, the ones we will use to find
    our way back to the home of our hearts.

    Rosemerry Wahtola Tromme

  • Some nights, the ache in your chest
    for all that’s wrong in your life,
    for all the cruelty of this world,
    will wake you with its crackling
    bonfire of fears. But other nights,
    you will fall asleep to the scent
    of peonies left breathing in a vase
    on the dresser, that bouquet of burst-
    open hearts the last thing you see
    before closing your eyes. You live, 
    as we all do, between the extremes, 
    learning to lean in the direction 
    of whatever small pleasures you can 
    gather from your own backyard.

    credits to James Crew

A close-up view of a dusty and dirty glass window with water streaks and many small, colorful particles on the surface. In the blurred background, there is a silhouette of a person standing outdoors.

death, grief & Loss

Death, Grief & Loss

Click on each box below to expand and read the poem.

  • When you lose someone you love,
    Your life becomes strange,
    The ground beneath you gets fragile,
    Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;
    And some dead echo drags your voice down
    Where words have no confidence.

    Your heart has grown heavy with loss;
    And though this loss has wounded others too,
    No one knows what has been taken from you
    When the silence of absence deepens.

    Flickers of guilt kindle regret
    For all that was left unsaid or undone.

    There are days when you wake up happy;
    Again inside the fullness of life,
    Until the moment breaks
    And you are thrown back
    Onto the black tide of loss.

    Days when you have your heart back,
    You are able to function well
    Until in the middle of work or encounter,
    Suddenly with no warning,
    You are ambushed by grief.

    It becomes hard to trust yourself.
    All you can depend on now is that
    Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.
    More than you, it knows its way
    And will find the right time
    To pull and pull the rope of grief
    Until that coiled hill of tears
    Has reduced to its last drop.

    Gradually, you will learn acquaintance
    With the invisible form of your departed;
    And, when the work of grief is done,
    The wound of loss will heal
    And you will have learned
    To wean your eyes
    From that gap in the air
    And be able to enter the hearth
    In your soul where your loved one
    Has awaited your return
    All the time.

    credits to John O’Donohue

  • Look at someone you love today,
    for one minute,

    as if you saw them for
    the first time.

    As if they were the first ray
    of sunlight, caught by

    the tender passion of your eye,
    lighting up your whole world.

    credits to Ron Starbuck

  • Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
    Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
    Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
    Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

    Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
    Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'.
    Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
    Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

    He was my North, my South, my East and West,
    My working week and my Sunday rest,
    My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
    I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

    The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
    Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
    Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
    For nothing now can ever come to any good.

    credits to W H Auden

  • there's a bluebird in my heart that
    wants to get out
    but I'm too tough for him,
    I say, stay in there, I'm not going
    to let anybody see
    you.
    there's a bluebird in my heart that
    wants to get out
    but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
    cigarette smoke
    and the whores and the bartenders
    and the grocery clerks
    never know that
    he's
    in there.

    there's a bluebird in my heart that
    wants to get out
    but I'm too tough for him,
    I say,
    stay down, do you want to mess
    me up?
    you want to screw up the
    works?
    you want to blow my book sales in
    Europe?
    there's a bluebird in my heart that
    wants to get out
    but I'm too clever, I only let him out
    at night sometimes
    when everybody's asleep.
    I say, I know that you're there,
    so don't be
    sad.
    then I put him back,
    but he's singing a little
    in there, I haven't quite let him
    die
    and we sleep together like
    that
    with our
    secret pact
    and it's nice enough to
    make a man
    weep, but I don't
    weep, do
    you?

    credits to Charles Bukowski, The Last Night of the Earth Poems

  • When death comes
    like the hungry bear in autumn;
    when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

    to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
    when death comes
    like the measle-pox

    when death comes
    like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

    I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
    what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

    And therefore I look upon everything
    as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
    and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
    and I consider eternity as another possibility,

    and I think of each life as a flower, as common
    as a field daisy, and as singular,

    and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
    tending, as all music does, toward silence,

    and each body a lion of courage, and something
    precious to the earth.

    When it's over, I want to say all my life
    I was a bride married to amazement.
    I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

    When it's over, I don't want to wonder
    if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

    I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
    or full of argument.

    I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

    credits to Mary Oliver

  • Do not stand at my grave and weep
    I am not there; I do not sleep.
    I am a thousand winds that blow,
    I am the diamond glints on snow,
    I am the sun on ripened grain,
    I am the gentle autumn rain.
    When you awaken in the morning's hush
    I am the swift uplifting rush
    Of quiet birds in circled flight.
    I am the soft stars that shine at night.
    Do not stand at my grave and cry,
    I am not there; I did not die.

    credits to Mary Elizabeth Frye

  • It must be very difficult

    To be a man in grief.

    Since “men don’t cry” and “men are strong”

    No tears can bring relief.

    It must be very difficult

    To stand up to the test.

    And field calls and visitors

    So that she can get some rest.

    They always ask if she’s alright

    And what she’s going through.

    But seldom take his hand and ask,

    “My friend, how are you?”

    He hears her cry in the night

    And thinks his heart will break.

    And dries her tears and comforts her

    But “stays strong” for her sake.

    It must be very difficult

    To start each day anew.

    And try to be so very brave –

    He lost his baby too.

    - Eileen Knight Hagemeister