Grieving in America

All too often I

close the door

on outstretched arms

when the pain is too great to bear.

When did I lose

the instinct to fall into the circle

of love that surrounds me,

my shattered parts gathered

up by many hands?

When did I learn

that to be strong was to be solitary

despite the longing to be held,

despite the cellular memory

of ritual, of wailing as a collective organism

when a beloved member of the tribe

crosses to the other side,

when illness strikes or

we are knocked to our knees

as catastrophe rearranges our existence?

I ask you:

what will you do today

with the tangled grief in your heart?

How will you tune your ear to its wisdom,

cherish its lessons,

embrace its dark mystery?

Sit with your sorrow,

my love,

without distraction.

Invite it into the softness of your belly,

feel it enter your pores, flow through your veins

Hold council with her.

Tend the fire,

Feed your soul ashes and well water

and morsels of moss.

Open wide to the truth

that only when we grieve in community,

in the raw spaces of our hearts,

will compassion outweigh greed,

and empathy have dominion over

the soul of the world

(LJ Feb 14, 2021)

Note: this is not my artwork. I would love to credit the artist but don't know who it is.