Everyone grieves in their own way, so they say.
But, steadfast Grief remains the same.
Lips once tilted in joy, Grief holds tight with the strain
of holding back anger and keeping screams at bay.
Grief tightens the brow and hardens the eye
to hold back the tears which threaten to slide
tearing apart all that we hold deep inside.
Cheeks held too tight crease
and create runnels where tears may glide.
Grief clutches jaws held fearfully tight.
Once tears escape, will our held-back sobs fight
with a pulse so strong they can never be stopped?
Like a street thug, Grief pounds us into submission
and never takes time to ask our permission.
It pushes us down with pummels fierce and powerful.
Grief uses its bruising punches to keep us sorrowful.
We lie on hard pavements praying for the end to our suffering.
We feel we are losing our grip on reality.
We clutch at old truths, begging help to appear and lessen our sorrow.
Even Grief grows tired over time and lessens its blows.
Help comes when we unclench jaws and scream,
and shout, and let our tears and fears outwardly flow.
Soften the eyes. Relax the brow. Let the tears flow.
Tears wash away sorrow that new faith can be planted
in every tomorrow, with new ways to love
and new paths to follow.
Signs of grief always remain in new lines
that furrow about our lips, across the edge of our eyes,
and on necks which will, henceforth, our heads tip
slightly down, with greater humility, a bit.
Over time bruises heal, muscles grow stronger.
We learn we can handle the tough thugs who sit
on the sidelines, hidden in shadow.
We learn love again, embracing those who came to help.
We learn faith again, embracing those who prayed by our side.
We learn hope again, embracing those who helped us to our feet.
We stand again on loving, faith-filled, hopeful feet;
and, find a new path where joy and laughter can leads us.
We see our new selves in the eyes of those we pass.
We are stronger and last longer than Grief ever could.
annarino writes 