Good morning…
Out loud, we read this poem.
*****
For When People Ask by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
I want a word that means
okay and not okay,
a word that means
devastated and stunned with joy.
I want the word that says
I feel it all all at once.
The heart is not like a songbird
singing only one note at a time,
more like a Tuvan throat singer
able to sing both a drone
and simultaneously
two or three harmonics high above it—
a sound, the Tuvans say,
that gives the impression
of wind swirling among rocks.
The heart understands the swirl,
how the churning of opposite feelings
weaves through us like an insistent breeze
leads us wordlessly deeper into ourselves,
blesses us with paradox
so we might walk more openly
into this world so rife with devastation,
this world so ripe with joy.
– This poem is from A Hundred Falling Veils
******
One unknown word stands out to me, Tuvan.
“The Tuvan people are a Turkic ethnic group native to Tuva, in Central Asia,” explains Wikipedia. “They number around 200,000 and live in Russia (Tuva), Mongolia, and China. The Tuvan tribe has its own unique language and culture, which has been passed down through the generations. Tuvan people are known for their throat singing, a form of music that uses the voice to produce two or more notes simultaneously.”
Our hearts understand the swirl, how the churning of opposite feelings weaves through us like an insistent breeze. We are led deeper into the devastation and the ripe joy of our innermost selves. They are blessed who grieve, for God will comfort them (Matthew 5:4, NCV).
Blessed, we walk more openly.
…Sue…
