Written March 5th, 2019
Music Layer March 9th, 2019
Typed March 9th, 2019


Crow with hole in wing
Pinhole slits of sun and sky
My airborne teacher


Is grief an homage to the joys I felt with you?

Is grief an unwanted identity?

Is grief my dreaming that my fingers were reaching for your hands?
Is grief our last dance? Or every dance we had together?


Embedded within each and every sadness, is there at least a totem of love?

Is grief the goodbye or the good morning?

When you would open your eyes to see me or close them lightly to sleep?

Is grief the neatness of your clothing hanging in the closet of our lives?

Is grief the color of the blood in your veins when your heart beat beat beat


Is grief about us? About you? About me?

Is grief my everything?


No, it is not.


But, sometimes, it is.


Is grief where we keep our treasures?

Is it a song, a coffin, ice cream, or the sky?

Is it a suitcase, a souvenir, these blankets, or the color of the snow in your eyes?


Oh, I think it's in the sunsets, the moonbeams, or heading to the movies.

It's in how I say your name when I know I won't see you turn toward my voice anymore.

It's in how I sit up when I could swear I heard you

I once heard you

sing my name...


Grief is in the trees breathing

In the tides tithings

It's in me walking... just walking...

Just me going...


I heard grief in the eulogy

I heard grief in the fallen silence


Grief is not... well, sometimes it is...

my everything


In the passing. The arriving.

The final moments. The New Life.


Does grief break me open where it holds me in place?

Does it give me all tears to laugh and cry?

Does it make me wiser every time I ask the question, “Why?”

Is it an easy question? A tough question?

A simple answer you can take too far?


Is grief where we see our Love?

Where we see ourselves as Love?

Is it a river, an ocean, or the bedtime tea?

Is it in the weather?

The feathers in every beautiful, stunning bird I see swim or fly?


Is it in the medicine?


Does grief break my step?

Does it steady my feet?

Oh, I think it supplies all the shared meals, the vivid stories,

the awesome arguments, and, definitely,

absolutely and completely

the music

the Music everywhere...


In the pregnancy of every night

In the promise of every aurora


In passing. In arriving.

In Final Moments. In New Life.