Day 317
November 13, 2022
Happy Birthday, Beth.


Grief rises up

folds itself tightly

around my chest and head.

Pressure just tough enough

strong enough

 

for me to feel the clamp,

the “I’ve got you again.”

that clings so tight once

it’s latched  on.

 

Let it rise

Let it make me take notice

Let it claim my heart again.

 


My head hurts; my heart

aches, sending familiar

 signs to my stomach.

 

Pain is part of the beauty,

let that rise.

Let that be now.

Pain is music and poetry,

pain is here and where ever .

 

Cure for the internal pain isn’t the question.

It’s not the goal

the target for exploration.

The aim is the moment

It is what is.

 

I have love

I have warmth

I have fear

     the setting sun

    rising ocean.

 

I have been loved

I have been cold.

Fear has crippled me.

I’ve always had

    color and song,

    rhythm and touch.

 

I can embrace the discomfort.

I can embrace

the moment, the need for tears

the proof of strength

of the emotional bond with earth.

Come on, I can be whole.




 


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