The thing about grief
is it’s more than the moment of impact.
It's also the shockwaves
after the asteroid hits your world.
It’s the cracking
along the fault lines
breaking apart continents.
It’s respecting the rage of the underground rivers
racing madly where you hoped
there might be gold, or at least iron
enough to try to make steel.
It’s the near drowning
in dozens of deep wells of resentment
before you find any sign
of a reservoir of grace.
It’s the exhaustion
in the mental cyclones
of forgetting and remembering,
wondering which is more painful.
It is also knowing
that even if every breath
I take ever after
is ragged and choked
there is something in me
that wants to keep breathing.
Image from Wallpaper Safari
Song Choice: When I Get There by P!nk
Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem is linked to the Friday Writings post at Poets and Storytellers United. At the time of this posting, it is a few days past the second anniversary of a dear friend's death. This poem was inspired by thoughts I had when I visited one of our favorite nature centers.
OMG is it SECOND anniversary already? If it still feels new and raw to me, who did not know her except via you, and only know you online, how much more so for you!
ReplyDeleteBut I know grief. I find it is worth living through the painful early years of it, and the later pain which never really leaves, for the sake of keeping the memories alive, and for the great joy they also bring.
I made the typo, 'worth loving through...' and though I have corrected it, it's true too.
Both the typo and the variation are very true. *hugs*
DeletePowerful poem, Rommy.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Debra
DeleteThis is my experience after a divorce that I didn't expect. In the long run it was probably best for the both of us. I remarried three years later and now we've celebrated our 50th anniversary. Her fourth marriage is working well for her. I was both our first marriage, for 13 years, we were young when we married. It wasn't this way for my Mom, maybe a little bit, and not much grief at all for my dad.
ReplyDelete..
I'm glad it worked out for the best and that you and Mrs. Jim have had a lifetime of love together.
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ReplyDeleteYou have composed a lovely poem, I feel your loss, the sadness. Rommy, 'you' of a reservoir of grace.
Thank you, Helen
DeleteIf you have to feel this way, I'm glad you have the gift of being able to describe it this well.
ReplyDeleteAnd I am thankful to have some words to use, even if I feel this only captures a fraction of what I feel.
DeleteEvery word resonates deeply... and is so so painfully true... there is hope though in your last 2 lines... that need to go on which is even more powerful. Strength and hugs.
ReplyDeleteIt's remarkably powerful, thank goodness.
DeleteHope leads us on inspite of every pain . And may it be so . Though this makes me sad. The pain does linger for a long time
ReplyDeleteI expect to have it with me for awhile
DeleteThere is something in me that wants to keep breathing - that is so human. I think we all want to keep alive every moment.
ReplyDeleteGeetashree
Sadly not always the case.
DeleteYou are right about grief as shockwaves. They are never really gone. After a while, you don't really feel it anymore, but sometimes, out of the blue, it reminds you again.
ReplyDeleteThis is such a brilliant poem, the imagery is so strong. :)
I am humbled. You write quite poignant pieces about loss, so I am glad for your kind words.
Delete“ It’s the exhaustion
ReplyDeletein the mental cyclones
of forgetting and remembering,
wondering which is more painful. ”
Really thought-provoking stanza, Rommy! (Sara McNulty)
Thank you, Sara
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