There is something about grief that makes me humble.
Humble to the reality that it is a mater of time before all this fades away into a distant memory.
Grief re-echoes my limitations my fears and my vulnerabilities. In the quiet of my pain, I wary and worry for the impending future. I then hope to find peace within for what is yet to come.
I wonder if the dead have it easier, if only they would tell us. I ache with the pain of knowing that this life makes it impossible to go the long stretch without re-sounding the bells of pain and fear, heartache and grief.
So I sit here, caught in my grief, captured ever so to what is unknown to me.
When will the darkness lift? If it lifts how do I pick up my cage and rebuild new walls? Do I just go on with my grief hanging around my sleeve? Will this pain ever be redeemed? Will loving another soul change the story? For I know the tale keeps on, the cycle doesn't change.
So I grieve and carry my heart open. I grieve and let the tears flow. I let the ache for a while, for no one ever tells you of the amount of pain in grieving. Grief has a face.
But ever so subtle and real, I hear a still small voice say; " Earth has no sorrow that heaven can't heal" And in that moment I know, everything will be just fine.
Humble to the reality that it is a mater of time before all this fades away into a distant memory.
Grief re-echoes my limitations my fears and my vulnerabilities. In the quiet of my pain, I wary and worry for the impending future. I then hope to find peace within for what is yet to come.
I wonder if the dead have it easier, if only they would tell us. I ache with the pain of knowing that this life makes it impossible to go the long stretch without re-sounding the bells of pain and fear, heartache and grief.
So I sit here, caught in my grief, captured ever so to what is unknown to me.
When will the darkness lift? If it lifts how do I pick up my cage and rebuild new walls? Do I just go on with my grief hanging around my sleeve? Will this pain ever be redeemed? Will loving another soul change the story? For I know the tale keeps on, the cycle doesn't change.
So I grieve and carry my heart open. I grieve and let the tears flow. I let the ache for a while, for no one ever tells you of the amount of pain in grieving. Grief has a face.
But ever so subtle and real, I hear a still small voice say; " Earth has no sorrow that heaven can't heal" And in that moment I know, everything will be just fine.