When I Return

author’s note:

What can I do at a time when so many are grieving?

I can post this poem about grieving.


WHEN I RETURN

Seeking solace
I return to this hillside--

return to
those small blue wildflowers...
the gray stones...
the flowing grasses...
that know me so well:

these friends feel my grief--
they empathize.

Secure in their care
I lay myself down in the sun
and allow my tears to rise.

Release : relief.
Those waters spend their surplus
then sink back down
into a hidden reservoir:

a reservoir I usually ignore
to keep from being overwhelmed
while I do my daily chores.

But eventually
those neglected waters
will again rise up in rebellion

then I’ll return once again
to this green hill

to my friends--
the flowers, stones,
the flowing grasses.

And when I lay myself down
those waters will rise as before--
once more
the release will lift me
towards the sun.

I rise a little higher
a little higher
each time I return.

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