Poets of grief multiply
in the killing fields,
transcribing bitter fruit.
Who am I to speak of ancient earth,
life beyond the terrible sadness?
Perhaps they know and need only
to feel the morning air,
the sound of rustling leaves.
I find a bird who’ll take a message
over the walls and wire.
I write what I know –
God is with you, suffering
and tie it beneath fragile wings
to lift upon an unseen wind.
photograph by Paul Borg Olivier
Reading of “Poets of Grief” with music by Ed Sheeran.
Don, a great message, well expressed. Thank you.
Such beautiful compassion! Thank you, Don.
May we rise above the habit of blame and killing into the rarified air of heaven!
Such a lucky gal.Sent to support those living in the power of the weakest weakness.Love never fails.
A dove from the Ark knows its mission and its Home.
Ancient Earth — Dare I speak, O Lord? All the while, “Memories light the corners of my mind; misty watercolor memories of the Way We were.”
A message of compassion and hope in fragile times.
Thank you Don!
Lovely. Sweet. Thank you.
Extremely Beautifull.
Matching the cries of the heart
which don’t see the ascending Light.
Gratefully,
Alice
This is really a delicate poem with the messaging bird like a faint calligraphy against the dense darkness of “the terrible sadness.” I don’t personally think there is a suffering God alongside in the madness, but his imaginal presence certainly adds a final period of gravitas to the poem. Bravo!