April: Awakening Through Poetry

The term “poetry therapy” may sound rather peculiar, but the use of words for healing is historical, dating back to ancient Egypt. As the use of arts and literature in medical practices became more renowned, the modern practices of poetry therapy were designed. 

Ultimately, poetry as a therapeutic tool makes use of symbols, words, lyricism, story, and the five senses to provoke and express feelings and emotions. This is accessible outside of a formal therapy setting, and also, it is recommended to complete deep processing with a mental health professional. 

What can poem reading, writing, and reflection do for you?

• Prompt emotional attunement, awareness, expression

• Enhance mindfulness

• Invite you to slow down

• Provoke curiosity

• Engage deep listening

• Inspire you

• Awaken something new in you

• Turn adversity to art

• Affirm, validate, appreciate

• Give you a voice

• Offer a way to connect with yourself and experiences through figurative language which may feel safer and more accessible than direct story telling. 

• Invite playfulness

• Foster a deepening of connection with others, nature, and one’s higher resonance. 

Experience the poem below and see what comes to you. 

What does it make you feel? 

What images stick out to you? 

Is there a line that prompts you to write your own poem? You could try: “Thank you for reminding me…” or “Remove the mask…”

How do you notice awakening through reading or writing poetry?

Spiritual Return 

I waft my hands left and right 

in half circles

like I’m herding children. 

I’m gathering peace, 

rendering revival.

Eyes closed in solar soak, I fall 

into a scarlet sea and welcome 

wavelengths of cellular recharge.

What was stuck behind my bones has lifted; 

the sky pulls it

steadily, sincerely out of me. 

Safer there, I’m now relieved.

This body has been begging for space,

which I’ve found meandering on dewy dock planks, 

flipping over old sand-filled oyster shells.

Secretly, I hope

just one blue crab escaped the trap last evening. 

I’d like him to know what it feels like to lose 

then find yourself again.

By fireside we passed around the word surrender. 

To that I move to the bay’s ledge,

remove the mask and fill my palm 

with a desperate wail.

Sealed with a kiss, I place my fear against the silky 

still surface.

Gaze high, in whisper, trembling, 

“Thank you

for reminding me how human I am.”

(Poem Recording)

References: 

Braun, E. (2026). “Spiritual Return.” Flower Petals and Fragments of Dirt (p. 80). Emily Braun.

National Association of Poetry Therapy. (n.d.). Home. National Association for Poetry Therapy - Home

National Association of Poetry Therapy. (n.d.). History of NAPT. National Association for Poetry Therapy - History