belonging by rosemerry whatola trommer

And if it’s true we are alone,
we are alone together,
the way blades of grass
are alone, but exist as a field.
Sometimes I feel it,
the green fuse that ignites us,
the wild thrum that unites us,
an inner hum that reminds us
of our shared humanity.
Just as thirty-five trillion
red blood cells join in one body
to become one blood.
Just as one hundred thirty-six thousand
notes make up one symphony.
Alone as we are, our small voices
weave into the one big conversation.
Our actions are essential
to the one infinite story of what it is
to be alive. When we feel alone,
we belong to the grand communion
of those who sometimes feel alone—
we are the dust, the dust that hopes,
a rising of dust, a thrill of dust,
the dust that dances in the light
with all other dust, the dust
that makes the world.

(C) Rosemerry Whatola Trommer

• When have you felt the green fuse that ignites you and unites you? Were you alone or with others? What were you doing at the time? Where were you? Explore your answer in your journal. Then reflect? What have you learned about what brings you alive and into community?

• What is the one big conversation you long to add your voice to?

• Begin a poem or prose piece with the words, “I belong to the grand communion.”