April 11, 2017

Don’t Shame me for my Grief. {Poem}

“For I shall be a star in a darkened sky.” ~ Marianne Williamson


A poem from a woman in love with a dead man.

It’s 11:30 a.m.

A full morning of
intermittent tears and
resistance and trying
to be better—not sad.

Because I’ve been that.

People say moving on is
what makes one strong.
I know it’s living with
that lie, non-defensively.

Being where we are—
that’s where we grow.

Yesterday, I saw sunshine
on the horizon. It’s there.
I cannot grab it like an
apple from a tree.

I have to hear me—the
broken, grieving, sad,
woman that I am—

And be okay with that.

You would shame me for
grief? I would too, if I
hadn’t walked through
the fire before.

But I have. It’s a
fun house where labels
are useless, and what looks
like the last wave, well…

Some days I search for
the exit, or a respite—
in the fridge, I find cheese,
salami, pickles, and beer inviting.

But no, I pass on indulgence.
I respect my emotional body.

Today, I make a smoothie:
banana and blueberries,
cinnamon, kale, and coconut milk.

I make one good choice.

I swallow the life force
under three days of clouds.

I breathe deep and sigh.
I breathe deep and sigh.

I quit resisting. I’m human,
feminine, and sensitive.

I was graced with great love
at age 50, followed by
crushing loss.

But still, I’m here
to turn another page,
not presuming how
my story will go.

Only knowing:
It will go on.
I will go on.


Author: Alice Lundy

Image: Harlow Heslop/Flickr 

Editor: Nicole Cameron

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