Poems on Grief

Grief

My grief is like a river,
I have to let it flow,
But I myself determine,
Just where the banks will go.

Some days the current takes me
In waves of guilt and pain
But there are always quiet pools
Where I can rest again.

I crash on rocks of anger
My faith seems faint indeed
But there are other swimmers
Who know just what I need

And loving hands to hold me
When the waters are too swift
And someone kind to listen
When I just seem to drift

Grief's river is a process
Of relinquishing the past
By swimming in Hope's channels
I'll reach the shore at last

~Cynthia G. Kelley~


The Pit

The day my child died, I fell into the pit of grief.
My friends watched me struggle through daily life,
waiting for the person I once was to arise from the pit,
not realizing "she" is gone forever.

The pit is full of darkness, heartache and despair,
it paralyzes your thoughts, movements and ability to ration.
The pit leaves you forever changed,
unable to surface the person you once were.

Some of my pre-grief friends gather around the top of the pit,
waiting for the old me to appear before their eyes,
not understanding what's taking me so long to emerge.
After all, in their eyes, I've been in the pit for quite sometime.
Yet in my eyes, it seems as if I fell in only yesterday.

Not all of my pre-grief friends are gathered around the top of the pit.
Some are helping me with the climb out of the darkness.
They climb side by side with me from time to time,
but mostly they climb ahead of me, waiting patiently at each plateau.
Even with these friends I sometimes wonder i
f they are also waiting for the pre-grief me to magically appear before their eyes.

Then there are the casual acquaintances, you know the ones who say,
"Hi, how are you?" when they really don't care or really want to know.
These are the people who sigh in relief, that it is my child who died and not theirs.
You know...the "better them, than me" attitude.

My post-grief friends (and a rare pre-grief friend) are the ones who climb with me,
side by side, inch by inch, out of the pit with me.
They are able to reassure me when I need reassurance, rest when I need resting,
and encourage me to move forward when I don't have the strength.
They have no expectations, no memories and no recollection of how I "should" be.
They want me to get better, to smile more often and find joy in life,
but they also accepted the person I've become.
The "person" who is emerging from the pi!

Author Unknown