Poetry falls out of grief on a clear day

Poetry falls out of grief on a clear day
with an invitation, a single thread
leading back to truth you hardly remember, for good reason.

Woven in will be the moments
you couldn’t hold at the time,
so dense were they with the threat of loss
and need to shoulder your life regardless.
Then there they’ll be,
perfect snapshots blooming
in your hands with an honesty you crave
but can only reach with effort.
(too often you talk yourself away from that edge)

A poem is born when you slow down,
ease into the depths of your experience,
step away from level ground and fly. 

My mom's been gone a little over three years. There are many poems still unwritten.

Views: 69

Comment by M. C. Sears on January 4, 2016 at 7:28pm
I get this, four years for me and some days the words come other days it's just a void.
I'm sorry for your loss.
Comment by JMac1949 Today on January 4, 2016 at 7:50pm

Read and liked.  I'm sixty-six and I've lost so many people that it's hard to count.  What I would dread is to lose a child or grandchild.  I can't begin to imagine what that kind of loss would feel like.

Comment by Token on January 5, 2016 at 2:23am

Excellent poetry

Comment by Julie Johnson on January 6, 2016 at 7:39am

Third time reading, for me.  Very well written and thought provoking.  Thank you.  

Comment by Alysa Salzberg on January 10, 2016 at 2:27pm

This was beautiful and something that I needed to read right now, caught between the anniversaries of the deaths of my father-in-law and one of my best friends.  Thank you for posting this, and I hope that, despite the immensity of your loss, you're feeling some healing and renewal, as well. Sending a hug.

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