Poems from sessions
A place for words to be received — and returned in a poem
This page holds selected poems written from real poetic listening sessions.
Each piece reflects someone’s words, cadence, and emotional tone as they were spoken — shaped into language they could return to later.
What poetic listening Is
Poetic listening is a quiet offering rooted in deep listening and creative reflection.
It exists for moments when you want to be heard without interruption, interpretation, or advice — and when language feels present but unfinished.
In a private session, one person speaks freely about whatever is present for them.
I listen — carefully, without steering or interpreting.
After the session, I compose a custom poem and a brief overview reflecting the specific themes or rhythm of what was shared.
The poem is not a summary.
It is not analysis.
It is not advice.
It is a creative mirror — a way of saying I heard you in language.
This practice is informed by my training with The Good Listening Project’s Listener Poet program and offered independently.
About the poems you’ll find here
The poems shared on this page are offered with permission or written as anonymized reflections.
They are not meant to teach or inspire.
They are meant to be felt — or not.
You don’t need to understand them.
You don’t need to relate to them.
You’re welcome to read one, many, or none at all.
Selected Poems
Absolutely
“This wasn’t a total surprise. We knew this was something that might need to happen,” he said. “She’s been having a lot of problems. Hopefully now this will help in some way.”
He reflected on his wife’s many surgeries, and what it’s like to be on the operating table—how different it feels when it’s someone you love, as if your own life is suspended. He also reflected on his own mother going through menopause and the dissonance of holding fear quietly while maintaining calm for his wife’s sake.
“It’s funny how helpless you feel when you love someone in these situations,” he shared. “Like I have an overwhelming desire to do something to make it better for her.”
After Us
With over two decades of marriage, she reflected on the difficulties of navigating divorce and the emotional complexity she was having in the process. “Oh the memories, so many things were said, left unsaid. We’re doing our best to settle things amicably.”
She touched on her compassion for her children, her desire to keep her family a family, and for her soon to be ex to be okay. “I love him and I’m sure a part of me always will.” Balancing divorce, grief, therapy, and what the future might hold she said she wanted the poem to allow her to be sad and remind her and her ex they can be happy.
A bead of hope, suspended in glass
Following a move to support her partner’s career, she reflected on her transition to a new city. She described the practical challenges she’s come across moving: finding work, places to shop, navigating the local post, and locating a barber for her male hairstyle.
“It’s different here,” she said. “There’s something about where I came from feeling safe and quiet... Culturally it’s not quite the same, it’s a bit louder, a little more grit.” Her reflection balanced these moments of discomfort with her efforts to explore the city and resource herself while seeking employment.
Get To
“I’m blessed,” they said, beaming with a smile. “I’m in recovery and today I get to live my life, connect with god and share my story.”
They shared their journey of finding their faith and the many blessings received from surrendering to a new way of living. While reflecting on the past, they noted, "I know where I’ve been… and I’ve always made it harder for myself than I ever needed to." When asked how the poem might feel, they requested something “simple and easy, like a reminder."
The Dead Are Speaking
"I've been doing a lot of ancestral work. Those wounds are rough. This work's been hard. It's not for the faint of heart. And everyone should totally do it."
She spoke about the frustration of trying to share her process with others. "When I start talking about generational trauma, most people just look at me like I'm kinda crazy. And I want to explain—don't you understand you share the same cells as your ancestors?"
She expressed a desire to honor how far she'd come, noticing how her healing felt mirrored in the resilience of nature. She wanted the poem to reflect her journey of confronting ancestral wounds—both as a reflection of her experience and as a boundary for those who might not yet understand the weight of the work.
If You’re Curious About the Offering
Poetic listening sessions are available as a one-on-one experience.
Some people arrive here through the writing first.
Others never read the poems and come directly to the session.
Both paths are welcome.
If you feel drawn to experience this kind of listening for yourself — or to offer it as a gift — you can explore the full Poetic Listening offering here:
If you already know this is something you’d like to step into, you’re welcome to schedule a session directly here.