Grief has a taste and a smell,
and a touch.
It is an ache and a sense of helplessness,
bewilderment about what is
and uncertainty about what will be
in the absence of who and what was.
Grief can be a weight,
an anchor that immobilizes.

Grief has a sound:
sometimes it is silence,
at other times a wail,
a whimper,
a cadence,
like that of soldiers’ boots
marching in sync across our days.
Grief can be a dance of unfamiliar steps
where, before, harmony existed.

Grief unveils our common humanity
but can be an isolating experience.
Yet there is One,
spoken of by the prophet Isaiah,
as A Man of Sorrow,
acquainted with grief.
He knows grief intimately
and is close to those who are grieving.
He knows and He is near.
Always near.

I am joining the Five Minute Friday writing community, hosted by Kate Motaung, for our weekly writing adventure. Please click here to learn about Five Minute Friday. This week’s prompt is, “Grief.”

12 thoughts on “Grief

  1. Great imagery!

    Grief, it has a texture
    whose roughness takes a toll;
    I offer this conjecture,
    that it’s rasp unto the soul
    that tears away one’s very skin,
    leaves nerve endings raw,
    and this is as it just begins
    to lay down its law
    of a dull imprisoned pain,
    a durance oh so vile
    that makes cold ember of the brain
    and fills warm heart with bile;
    I fear it’s thrown away the key,
    but Lo! He comes to rescue me!

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