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If you were here
I would put my hand
on your heart
and hold it there
until our breaths
became a single tide,
hold it there until
I could feel the moment
when you remember
your infinite value.
It’s so easy to forget
we are treasure.
So easy to lose track
of our own immeasurable worth.
The chest rusts shut.
We think we are empty.
Amazing how easily
we are fooled into believing
we’re paupers.
Sometimes it takes another
to remind us
we have always been
not only the treasure
but also the key.
Though the hinges
are a metaphor,
the treasure is not.
We were made to open,
to share our priceless gift,
to press our hands
to each other’s hearts
and hold them there
until we all remember.

Photo by Lena De Fanti on Unsplash

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer co-hosts the Emerging Form podcast, the Stubborn Praise poetry series and Secret Agents of Change (a kindness cabal). Her poems have been featured on A Prairie Home Companion, American Life in Poetry, PBS Newshour and Oprah Magazine. Her most recent book, Hush, won the Halcyon Prize. One-word mantra: Adjust.

3 Comments

  • Sally Warrington says:

    Thank you, dear dear Rosemerry, HOL, Sally

    • Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer says:

      Love to you, dear Sally–I am so grateful for how you, from a distance, have put your hand on my heart. Love, Rosemerry

  • Mark Hiskes says:

    Rosemerry, thank you for your kind words about “Go, Graduates.” Your achingly moving poem reminds me and every teacher that each child in our classroom is “treasure” and is of “immeasurable value.” In my experience, for every kid that needed reminding to be a Samaritan, there was one who needed to hear she wasn’t the pauper she felt she was but was, in fact, a “priceless gift.”

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