Grief is medicine.
It is not static.
Its sadness is a rainbow.
Grief is myriad
and filled with
mystery,
expectation,
wonder.
Grief is the ashes
and the rising from them.
This medicine is the unknown
and the fear of it.
So, I feel it
and embrace this unknownness.
Grief is medicine.
It is not static.
My grief is rage.
At first, it was
an impotent frustration.
But now, I have nursed it
into a full-blown fury.
Grief is the ashes
and the rising from them.
There is nothing precious
about this journey.
I never presume to
know its end.
It sneaks up on me
like a summer thunderstorm
out of clear blue skies.
Grief is medicine.
It is not static.
No.
This medicine is the unexpected
partner in discovery
and path-making.
I can sense an impetus;
spurred on by that
unexpectation,
I move.
Grief is the ashes
and the rising from them.
~ composed by Stan Stewart
~ Copyright © 2025 by Stan Stewart and muz4now, inc. All rights reserved.
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Poetry I can relate to, beautiful, Stan.
You have a soul (which I already knew). Thank you.
Such a beautifully written reflection on grief your words really resonated with me. If I ever have the chance, I’d love to learn more about you and your perspective