Grief

Inconsolable grief

Inconsolable grief (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have a houseguest–
his name is Grief.

Most days, he sits not speaking;
his shadow mutes the colors, saps the light.

Other days, he is drunk with rage and loss;
he smashes everything and hurls blame everywhere.

And then he weeps.

Most days he simply exists.
His breath steals the life from the air.
His hands are cold and strong in mine. We dance.

And then we weep.

Advertisements

11 thoughts on “Grief

  1. It’s time, my friend, it’s time! For peace the heart is calling.
    Day flies by after day, and every hour is tolling
    A bit of being away: together you and I
    Suppose that we will live- but see! Just then – we die.

    Visiting from UBC, thanks for sharing

  2. Pingback: She Sleeps | Laura Brewer

  3. Pingback: Tuesday « Dancing with Fireflies

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s