Saturday, January 26, 2013

of grief and blue . . .

of what purpose is sorrow
why are there spaces that feel so ripe with its weight & darkness ?
are we merely to discover how to rise ?
tracing back to our bone imprint of feathered things ... ?
how do we honor indigo stories without taking on the wound
gathering to soul-fast the shavings
molding our vision to see thru to other side
folding & unfolding
gather, release
to experience the quest
learn how to rise
on feathered things  . . .

1 comment:

  1. Really wonderful Susie...All we can do is to feel it and allow time and the feeling itself to unfold the answer. I love this poem, and, of course, you!