Grief runs like a river
beneath thin layers
of sand and stone,
carrying stories
of pain and failed hope
to an ocean of silence.
The great heart of the world
includes this ocean and river
pulsing with rhythms of sorrow
and new life born again
in the garden of the gods.
Deep wisdom in this vision, Don — that grief and pain and failed hope are carried back to the sea, rich with minerals, to be used in rebirth. Thank you.
Agreed, Don and Lloyd … Thank You …
::: 💥💥💎💥💥 :::
So True, Don.
This speaks eloquently of the marriage of dark and light…..
All of us have some degree of experience with grief. I came to the realization that grief is the act of cauterizing the wound. It allows us to live while enduring such depth of pain. Thank you for this poem, Don.
excellent Don. as this new life is born fresh from the womb of its source, may it be kept clear and fresh as it moves again and again through natural cycles of purification, watering and nourishing the garden of god in endless unbroken procession
Thank you, Don. Trees and their remnants are part of a maturing stream. This man-tree is passing under bridge after bridge, each passing with its own story of pain and grief. Each brood of fingerlings making a fresh start, bringing joy and excitement, innocently unaware of the passages ahead. When I’ve reached the great ocean Mother, I shall impart a last word of wisdom to you for new song, as yet unborn. All a part of the balance.