Notes On... Words That Hold Us

Poetry has a way of reaching into places we don’t always have words for.

It slips past logic and lands somewhere deeper. In therapy, it can become a bridge, giving shape to feelings that are too tangled, too raw, or too quiet to say out loud. Sometimes, what reason can’t hold, a poem can. I first encountered poetry therapy during expressive modalities training. What struck me wasn’t just the practice itself, but the root of the word. Poetry comes from the Greek poiesis, meaning “to make” or “to create.” Heidegger described it as a kind of bringing-forth. Like a bud unfolding, or a butterfly finding its way out. It isn’t just expression. It’s transformation. A way of bringing into light what we’ve kept hidden.

Reading or writing poetry invites a slower rhythm. One line can speak more truth than an hour of talking. A metaphor can soften grief in a way that direct language sometimes can’t. Poetry holds the edges of our experience while letting them stretch a little. For clients who find it hard to explain what they feel, poetry offers another way in. Reading a poem that resonates can feel like being recognized. Writing one can feel like reclaiming voice. A haiku might hold a panic attack. A free verse might pull something out that’s been buried for years.

I once worked with a client who couldn’t talk about her grief. But she wrote a poem about a long, dark hallway with a closed door at the end. That image carried everything we needed to know. It gave us a place to begin. The metaphor held the pain until she could hold it herself. I’ve seen poetry soften the frozen parts. I’ve seen it let breath back into places that were holding too much. Whether it’s Rilke or Mary Oliver or a client’s own trembling lines, poetry often says the thing that helps us feel less alone.

Try it sometime. Read a poem like you’re listening to music. Or write a few lines at the end of your day, even if they don’t make sense yet. Let the words take you toward yourself. There’s room for you here.