Dislodging Grief: A Poem & Thoughts

Where do we go when the heart is heavy?

As I embark into a new chapter with my family, I realize, surreally, it’s the one I’ve been waiting for. The shift is still sinking in. I’m allowed to say it aloud. My spouse is finally healed from multiple major surgeries and the residual effects of being trapped in a pained body. As miraculous as this is, yes it is! I also find myself nearly knocked over by the wave of emotions I could scarcely acknowledge in the tumult of years. Five years. I’ve ruminated in what has arisen this week. Shared it with him so we can move forward together. Cried and laughed. Looked with eyes both old and new. Remembered who we wanted to be and still are in many ways. You can’t run from your design. How do you play and tinker with it?

I’m sharing it here because that’s what artists do even against some logic or arbitrary voice, critical, too personal, they release that which moves them the most, a continuation of the energetic cycle of self. You can’t start again if you are stuck on something. So goodbye to this! It worked, because I finally started my first novel, a strange utopian story that will challenge me to inhabit the mind of my masculine side while keeping it in check, writing from a male protagonist. Do you lean into your place of balance, letting challenge help you grow? Our greatest teachers elicit truly terrible feelings. Let’s try something new together.

I hope this offering reminds you that we all feel the same things, at different times, in mostly the same ways. Or do you think not? If you would like to share anything about grief, I’m listening as well.

Grief Gestault

Dislodging pain

Years going it alone

Holding my breath.

String round my finger,

Don’t forget the why.

Too taught, atrophy

Land amongst water

Yet lost to the sea.

Diaphragm constricted,

Belly soft, distended.

Womb stretched and receded.

Sitting, slackened.

She’s waiting

For Odysseus?

Things I tell myself.

Myths.

Help.

Agony in tension

Mounting much higher

Whittle the fibers

Ganglion gnawed in knots

A mind marred

No matter. Not ok

Where are you?

Spirit wasting away.

But a shell.

And ‘she’ll be fine,’

But it’s a lie?

I lie here

Scarcely conscious supine.

Slumber.

Prone to numb

I’m sorry son.

Daughter

I fought for her

Determined for them to be

Close. Physically near me.

But you. What can I do

Seam split

Seen shit

What white of the eyes

Send a tear

To tear me an opening

A heart that can feel

If he comes back

What is left that’s real?