Thursday, March 24, 2016

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,
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.

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.

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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