121615- Grief Song

What impossible decisions I’ve made,

the weight of them,

The scars and time it’s taken to heal enough to breath forward.

Onto what I know not.

It wasn’t pulling weeds,

It wasn’t cutting fat.

These impossible determinations,

They’re a burning heart that makes ashes of fear

And hands that tear at brush in the thicker-yet forest of time

Feet careful over hidden mines- memories that could shatter me

Everything I put to sleep in my belly, waiting for softer skies

For gentler winds and growth- the green returned.

An aching of fertile land about, waiting.

For grief is what I tend like a garden.

In it everything can be repurposed

All can be renewed, so long as my hands are strong and the sun shines on me

So I pray, at least.

In my mind, on soft earth, I recognized the strength of doing what seemed impossible.

Though hurt existed. I dug in my nails,

The ground pulsed, ready.

I forgave myself.

On with the sweet bastard, Grief.

Vines and blossoms will grow around it in time.

I’ll dance around its image, a warrior dance,

The grief song celebrates possibility.

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