GRIEF CAN BE A SUNFLOWER

Grief can be the sunflower delivered

by a smiling friend,

that inexplicably begins to die that very minute,

leaves drooping, head bending, tucking its chin,

giving up, leaf by wilting leaf,

because the world is broken, and too hot,

its roots too tightly packed

for water to reach its faltering heart.

Grief can also be the bouquet of cut sunflowers

I bring home from the CoOp

and put in the tall green vase,

to cheer me as I add one more loss

to all the others, and remember

that the world, though suffering,

is also beautiful.

Grief becomes everything with age,

laced through the heartbreaking beauty

that is this world, this life, and death, all passing,

the shine, the wonder, sunrises, sunsets,

laughter and tears and love come and gone ~

earth grief for a planet in distress,

and our culpability/inability

to restore what has been lost

loss upon loss, the heaviness,

us learning how to plant our feet

and strengthen our shoulders to bear it.

Not giving up like the sunflower,

setting our roots down deep,

strengthening our stance,

accepting pain is the price of being fully alive:

gratitude for all of this life and love -

the richness of it! The gifts.

Joy woven through the sadness.

Sadness woven through with joy-

gilt-edged, and fraught,

and yet still remembering

how to dream.

Then I went to the beach and let the waves sing their song of forever to me. An elderly and rather chubby bassett hound turned himself upside down, paws in the air, snout lying flat on the sand, totally blissed out. It made my day!

for Susan's prompt at What's Going On - Grief