I look in the mirror
I don't recognize who is looking back at me
I am what's left
One side of the portrait
Is there beauty in pain?
Maybe, but the pain remains
I am half of what we were
No beauty of life can replace that
I am what remains
It is a very different view
I don't like it
But I must see it
You are so alive in my dreams
The waking world wants more
I can only survive
I can't offer what we would
I am alone in this beautiful hell
Of love and family shattered
If only you could come back to me
Until then, I am lost.
Hauntingly beautiful! Grief and sadness create poets of us all. Here's what I wrote when I was at your stage of grieving:
ReplyDeleteThe Kite and the String
Don held my string.
He helped me fly
But times change
and husbands die.
I try time and again
to untangle myself
from tree after tree
and whether or not
I find my way in wind
again remains to be seen.
by Jean Riva 2013 ©
Jean, that is beautiful! I love the kite metaphor, so perfect. Thank you so much for sharing this. I got a lot out of it. <3
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