Poems of Hope and Healing
A selection of poems, shared during an Interintellect salon hosted by Irene Karthik and Tanya Raj
Enjoy this beautiful selection of poems, by attendees of a recent poetry salon hosted by Irene Karthik and Tanya Raj.
Interested in your own poetic explorations? Join Irene and Tanya for their next poetry salon, Poetic Explorations: Change and Transitions.
The write way
by Jibran
Write it now. While the woes are willing to escape. Write it with your heart. While the words are wanting. Write it without thinking. While the weird is wandering your paper. Write it without waiting. While the work is not wonder. Write it now. While the white is welcoming your weirdness.
***
Photo by Álvaro Serrano on Unsplash
Owls—
by Pavel S.
Owls,
sitting on the shelf
Gazing keenly,
like hawks
Piercing
your soul
Kissed gently by sunlight
***
Photo by Dominik Van Opdenbosch on Unsplash
This sturdy poinsettia—
by David B.
This sturdy poinsettia—
without care, barely watered, and out of season,
lives on and on.
A domesticated trifle, born among multitudes in a crowded greenhouse.
It hangs to life
like the wildest thing.
***
Photo by Jessica Fadel on Unsplash
Hope is the cashier at Trader Joe’s—
by Vidhika B.
Hope is the cashier at Trader Joe’s
excitedly telling me about his plans
to go back to school and learn
cybersecurity, while he checks every single
egg in the carton I just bought to make sure they’re devoid of cracks
and don’t break on my way home.
Hope is the warm smile of a stranger,
the all-encompassing hug from a neighbor,
the reassuring voice of a close friend
who’s got a million and one things on
their plate, but still time enough for me.
Hope is the trees, giving rest
to the birds and
to my tired eyes
in need of nature,
of beauty, of the perennial reminder
that everything bare
will, in time, bear fruit once again.
***
Photo by Dayne Topkin on Unsplash
my hunched body—
by Alice F.
my hunched body—
how old was I
when I stopped unfurling?
whose hand is now
rubbing small circles
on my back?
***
Reflections in the lake—
by Aadhiya Tulsi
Reflections in the lake lie like looming otherworld; Sullied by light They cast tricks, magnifying Size, depth, shadow, colour Until the image itself ripples and disappears Reflections in a mirror Too, Lie obviously skewed By the eye of the beholder Is this image ever really true? Reflections in the mind lie Deep, to be excavated From their subconscious tombs Waiting like treasure to be unearthed
***
Photo by Juan Davila on Unsplash
In this cold grey afternoon—
by Irene K.
In this cold grey afternoon,
amid poesy and kind faces —
warmth returns.
That was a fun surprise seeing my own poem in the ii Substack!
It was a lovely salon/workshop btw ☺️
Thank you for sharing all these poems!