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becoming, bliss, breath, death, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, home, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, reason, relationship, resurrection, spirit, spirituality, strength, truth, understanding, value
beyond the mossy comfort
of tear-stained I love yous
leaving settles
cold against the night
hands to fold in reverance
for moments come before
hearts are made to ache
the soul’s delight
how it is
the whole becomes
a part of all we knew –
stripped to bare
our reason for remorse
angels watch while lonely mourns
whispers born of bliss
sorrow keeps a plate
of fortunes sworn
the ways to know
of all we lose –
much the more we keep
as dreams resolve a heaven
we know best
sleeps beside the willows
rattles now the winds –
love returns to soothe
our restlessness
falling forward
somewhere else –
leaned into the fold
as there the names remember
us again
lonely needs no lesson
of where we passed the time
or voices ringing silent
o’er the bed
tornadoday 
This is one where the words are felt more than they are read, Bobbie. And there’s a haunting beauty threaded through it that touches the spirit. ~Love~
Paul
Thank you, Paul. This came as the result of a conversation earlier this week about how we love (differently), think (differently) and grieve differently. There’s no right or wrong as they are all acceptable as long as they are healthy….. A friend of mine struggles with grief, and yet, my perception is that most of the struggle is fighting what she’s feeling (rather than accepting and appreciating what she’s feeling). It brings her to her knees, and I reminded her that it should…….and while she’s down there, she should give thanks for all that came before the grief…….. This is life. It is wonderful and sorrowful, bitter and sweet……. but who would want something other? As I am often quoted as saying to my nieces and nephews, ‘love it up’……. ~ Love, Bobbie
It’s hard for some to understand that if there were no bitter, how would we know the sweet…, and the same for happiness and sorrow…… xo
Indeed…………were there not night, how could we ever recognize the dawn?
this typical of Rilke! Excellent !
Thank you, my sweet Deb.