stormy seas
how many different ways
can i write about grief
before i run out?
i want to stop.
to think about events
that broke me and still
hold my heart together.
to gather every memory
that rises and patchwork
a quilt that warms me
on cold nights.
to acknowledge grief as
a friendly companion,
instead of an adversary
that knocks me to my knees.
at the wishing well,
i drop a coin and wish
for my tears to stop
rippling the water that lies below.
if she were here,
i would know how to go on.
but without her,
i do not have a true north.
my compass spins and spins,
i am well and truly lost.
perhaps moving on
is just going in circles.
every year i return
to the exact moment
that everything changed.
i know that the only
way for grief to go
is through.
i know i must allow myself
to be wrecked.
no one ever rebuilt
a house while the
hurricane still raged.