The Grief of Holy Week...
Grieving continues... and it never ceases to amaze me, though I
have traveled this road many, so many, times. Writing bits and
pieces... words oozing forth from a tired heart and mind...
grief work
tired... bone tired...
focus remains elusive and
energy low,
low,
low,
even after hours of sleep.
Grief work, it is called,
and work it truly is,
this walking through the valley,
re- shaping my life around
a gaping would still oozing sadness.
touching...
Touch... being touched...
the gift of massage...
as muscles relax...
emotions release...
and I am transported
into silent, blissful rest.
Blue skies smiling at me...
The clouds are parting
Fog lifting
Blue skies peering through
the rent in the universe
called grief.
I stand on tiptoe on the brink of a new day
Trembling with anticipation
and wonder
and hope
Feeling about to be reborn this Easter morning
The church calls it Resurrection...
I call it New Life.
Hallelujah!
And a wonderful quotation from Oliver Sacks:
I am now face to face with dying,
but I am not finished with living.
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