“. . . when the Light of the World shattered, it fell into all events
and all people, past, present, and future. . . . We are here to find the hidden light in all people . . .
it is not about doing something huge . . . it is about healing the world that touches you.”
- Rachel Naomi Remen, quoting her grandfather -
I’ve been feeling a great grief in the air, laced with anger and melancholy. Visiting our property today, the first line of this poem began singing in my head. The saguaros stood rooted with arms outstretched. The line kept singing, then turned into this poem.
May we find the compassion, strength, and wisdom to get through this time of lost connections, to help restore and reimagine the world that touches us.
May It Be So
The grief of a thing can be so large
It must spread its huge presence
Through your entire body
Until it splinters and
Divides into digestible bits
But sometimes it takes its own lumbering time.
Bad dreams spend the night
Outbursts come and go
Days fill with shadows and
Revs up like a car at the starting line
Until everywhere you look Grief stares you down.
Hello you say and
Stare into their eyes
Strangers with bent backs or pointy shoes
Small buds of flowers the color of faith
That stare at you while parents yell
And each one gifts you with a hallowed tear.
The way it rolls down one cheek
With the grace of becoming and
Loss begets loss 'til it hears your voice
Then runs to catch up with you
Faster and faster
Who holds wonder while walking with sorrow.