Thursday, July 28, 2011

Grief: Let The Journey Begin

I made it to the gym today.  Ouch.  Hooray.

That's it for me.  Lie down sometimes - get up other times.  I have a lot of writing floating in my brain.  I need someone out there who is psychic to get it down on paper.  Ha!  Does anyone remember paper?  Tupelo Press is accepting poetry manuscripts until July 31st.  What if I gathered all my poems together and submitted them?  Wouldn't need to get published (although that would be a lovely yes from the universe) but it would mean I was working at writing again.  I have this fantasy about people hacking into my computer and stealing my work. 

All these posts - there is a book in here somewhere.  The posts about grief - but also from a Doug O'Brien/Nick Kemp workshop - stories that start:  I never imagined  it could be this way.  With blank pages for people to write their own "I never imagined  it could be this way." stories.  They can be real wishes - or just letting your imagination flow.  I never imagined it could be this way:  I woke up happy and went to the gym. wrote a poem, ate a salad, and spent time with my friends - smiling all the way.  I never imagined it could be this way:  My husband came home and said, "Got a special one day pass."  and we spent all day loving each other person to person before he had to go back to wherever he is (he says right here with you - only in spirit).   I never imagined it could be this way:  Weapons turned into chocolate bars with no calories and instead of killing each other we put on party hats and dance.  The possibilities are endless.  I just have to pick up my sword and cut through my own crap and do it.  :)

Here is a poem I wrote in trance camp.

Let The Journey Begin

The death whisperer beckons:
I turn to follow.

Spirit winds blow.
I pause.

"Follow me" cries the owl.
"Follow me" coos the dove.
"Follow me" caws the raven.

My dead husband's hand in the small of my back.
I turn.

A rent in my soul;
scarlet blood drops
become seed scattering poppies.

My dead husband lifts me on to his lion's back
He whispers
"It is as it was and ever will be."

I speak.
Tiny birds fly out of my mouth
carrying life to edgeless earth corners

The lion begins to move.
Spirit winds blow.

My grief is not a monster clawing at my back,
but a small furry creature whimpering by the side of the road.
I raise it up to warm it upon my belly.

I say.
"Let the journey begin."

Here's to all our journeys - however winding the path - and may we find unexpected delights by the side of the road and meet strangers that quickly become friends. xo

No comments:

Post a Comment