there is no timetable for grieving —
grief is a snail
it’s a shooting star
a walk around the lake
it’s eternity
or frost till bloom —
memories coursing through the heart
it lasts as many heartbeats as it takes —
sometimes all of them.
healing
Anew
Our bodies let go when it’s time to let go — it’s called death. We ought to let go of the little burdensome things each day — that’s called living.
Ease your sweet heart
Mother dear —
You worry about me
because I write sad poems —
But I promise you:
I am okay —
Writing purges my frustrations
and vents my steam
the pen is my psychiatrist
and ink my medicine —
When life feels off-balance
back to the writing board I go
I do not hide but seek
my emotions in words
and blot them on the paper
which blots it all out of my soul —
You see sad words, but to me
all my poems are happy
because creating them heals me —
Guaranteed, and believe me
because I love you so:
your daughter is just fine —
If ever I stop writing poems
that is when you should worry.
Grief mends
Grief is a burden
but also a friend—
It is not grief that
wounds your heart
but it is grief that
heals your heart.
Memorial
Grieving makes us stronger
it gives us a spirit of grace
and the grace of spirit —
Our hearts feel weaker
but living past loss is
the ultimate courage —
We honor our loved ones
by living on despite,
and all the more because.
Well-becoming
Wellness is the art of healing before you’re sick.
Feelers
The scars you can’t see are the hardest to heal.
Healing stronger
Scars tell us more about the future than the past, about how we can live strong despite any pain we’ve been through.
Water cycle
to cry is beautiful —
the beauty of one’s pain
leaving the heart
blackout poetry created from Maud Casey, The Man Who Walked Away, 2014
Clarity of breath
The wisest one-word sentence? Breathe.
Internal listening
If you can’t get quiet enough to hear yourself, your life is too loud.
Pierced flight
thorns and stings
and those such things
just make stronger
our angel wings
P.S. Thank you to everyone who has written letting me know that Katya Elise Henry got a tattoo of this poem. Honestly, I didn’t know who she was and had to look it up. But that’s pretty cool, and a nice tattoo.
Process
Your healing will never be complete if you treat it as a destination.