My own art
I was almost drowned by deep,dark grief
I have wept at home and wept abroad.
I lost my early childhood to these deaths
I have known grief spread like rivers wide
I ‘ve been wracked by painful spasms of tears
I have felt the absence of my God.
I’ve known grief for more than sixty years
My father and his brother were the first
I have met no being who’s been spared.
Yet we have no permission here to weep
I long for ritual like my writer’s pen
I ache to dream of them while I’m asleep.
Like a fox hides in a hole or den
I would like to hide when day begins
Uncontained by his love again
As a tree mourns for each little leaf
As God mourns his human life so brief
I have been demolished by wild grief
I have seen lost ghosts, yet still believe