Grief Prayer

 In Art & Spirituality, Poetry

There is so much space within the ground of being, the joy of being, for all feelings. In this year of the unexpected, of loss and separation and the gaining of new insights and gifts, here’s a prayer that came during Lockdown 2.0. A moment in a day. The sweetest meeting.

 

Grief Prayer

Yes, yes.

 

Counting my blessings. Always.

And none-the-less

with the soft light of the candle flame

comes grief.

 

Hello, friend.

 

You remind me of all I love and value.

In these times of distance:

ghosts

around me

wanting

to return to my care.

Longings:

I miss hugging my family.

My father drops flowers by, and we laugh and we stand apart.

Grateful, I speak with my mama on the phone. I can see her with my eyes closed as she moves through her day. And I wonder if I will see her in person this year.

 

There is both busyness and not. I feel like I am falling behind with sharing time with my sister, brothers and their partners, my family. My nieces and nephew delight me with their chirruping chatter and playful ways. I want to hug them and dance with them and rough and tumble together.

 

I know

I am not alone in this grief.

 

There is the missing

of the simplicity

of meeting not tied to a number nor dressed in a mask.

 

There is the grief that has no words.

The secret grief that goes unspoken.

The grief that is old, old, yet sometimes rises up, unexpected, ripping, raw-hot as it roars.

 

There are the particular grief prayers that are our own.

That come with living a life. And loving.

 

Breathe wide.

Meet grief in the belly.

In the heart.

 

Yes, yes.

 

Hello, friend.

 

Through change we shed skins. Sometimes, for the human heart, it is hard to part with who we no longer are. To meet what is real and now, choosing Truth over fantasy, projection and past.

 

Every day, the inevitable dying away of aspects outgrown.

The bittersweet ache of sensing the ever closer yet not-quite-here elements of ourselves that are in bud, or whispering for permission to be. That which is ready – often with a howl – waiting to be welcomed.

 

Grief.

The death of moments major and minor. The celebratory cry of life through all.

 

Tears as rain.

Clear-seeing comes

as we bow

humble

listening.

Softening into the arms of grief.

 

Eat, sleep, love, grieve.

 

Yes, yes.

 

Hello, friend.

 

Words & Image: Alice Flynn

 

#grief #covid19 #quarantine #beinghuman #change #resiliency #anabundanceofbeauty #interconnection #community #oneness

 

 

 

 

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