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Medicinal Poetry: Seasons of the Mind



Before I share a poem on mental health, I’ll tell you a quick, little story about when I learned poetry can be a tool for healing.


I believe poetry is a kind of medicine. It can serve as a potent salve for old and fresh wounds alike.


It also can help make sense of what’s brewing inside you. Pouring your emotions onto a page can help you see them in different ways, if at all.


My story starts when I found a love for writing at a young age, perhaps at a time I needed it most. I was longingly gazing out the window of my 6th-grade classroom, barely hearing the frantic buzz of other students like white noise.


My teacher’s voice was a whip. “Time to read your poems! Who’s going first?”


Shoot. I never was very good at turning in homework.


As classmates recited their select poems one by one from a grab bag of authors I won’t even try to remember, I was scribbling my own with slippery sweat keeping me from holding the pencil steady.


Done. I titled the poem, Wilderness, which spoke to the feeling of being lost in one’s wild and chaotic environment. But I couldn’t tell my teacher I wrote it… that wouldn’t go well, especially in front of the whole class.


I scrawled at the top of the page, “by anonamys,” (it looked like the correct spelling at the time). And so, I read some obscure author’s poem that no one had ever heard of.

My terrifying teacher never learned of my secret. Good riddance.


This poem was and will always be special to me. For the rest of the day, I felt lighter as if my feet were freed from emotional molasses. I would continue throughout the years to utilize poetry as a release for my inner turmoil. It was my ink.


I’ve since expanded into writing fiction and utilizing other methods as a tool for healing, exploration, and creation. While I won’t be sharing Wilderness, I have another poem just for you.


Seasons of Mind


By Joshua T. Adams (not anonamys). 

Fall into tomorrow

while sorrow carves hollow

a snowy, frozen stone-

I seem to be a husk

with my spirit left to rust

Unnatural in

a world of elements,

Please bring me to spring

a place my mind May begin

to learn through hot suffering,

so dreams and wishes grow

the reasons wisdom knows

hope bestows,

and this life from my body rose.

Inspired by The Rose that Grew From Concrete by Tupac Shakur. See his poem here: www.commonlit.org/en/texts/the-rose-that-grew-from-concrete


May all our challenges bear fruit and only blessings!


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