The Storyteller

Tammy T. Stone

Tammy T. Stone

I’ve long been fascinated with the role and myth of The Storyteller…

As a storyteller myself, I am always looking for the perfect words, the perfect formulations, in hopes of capturing the imagination and tugging at all the warmest places in the heart. Like all pursuits, there is really no final destination, but rather, constant, diligent and impassioned work, and the awareness that there is really no ultimate and perfect story to be told: there are, instead, the many stories that can and do tell, in infinite variations, along the way in this beautiful journey of life and communion.

With this poem, I simply want to express what it is I am trying to do as a storyteller, as I imagine the recipient on the other end, as we both reach out in search of connection.


I would like to tell you

a story

on a cool, rainy night

as you sit inside,

on your love-worn sofa,

covered in warm blankets

drinking hot, aromatic tea

from your favourite mug.

To tell you it’s going to

be okay.

Maybe there’s an old painting

on a wood-panelled wall

that has seeped into

the curves and contours

of your body

by now,

whispering its familiar

hushed tales

in rich, blurred colours

suffused with

fiery light.

This is your night.

You are safe,

you are protected

this is for you,

to fall into

and snuggle up against.

Your dreams get reclaimed


your future still waiting

in embrace.

This is for all

your old heartaches,

late-night cries

and the visions of

sought-after ever-afters

you never quite

shook out.

Above all, this is so you

can melt like cinnamon

into worlds

you’ve conjured before,

and will recognize

here again,

coming back for you

after all these years,

on the back of

softest wings.


This poem was published on Women’s Spiritual Poetry!

One thought on “The Storyteller

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