Poetry: "Grief, my old friend..."

Grief, my old friend;
My past and present;
tragedies and triumphs.

Grief, I am told,
is something to be honored
but only for a time;
The root of a soon rampant
and ruminative mind.

Grief, a burden, I am told
is suffering through loss;
A mine from which
to extract gold
though if clung to, at a cost.

Grief, so beautiful & bold.
Grief, so evergreen.
Grief, beyond the wretched,
sooty veil, and dreary days,
not quite as it may seem.

Grief, far more than dross,
is, dare I say, a welcomed stay
– not just clinging to a loss.

An act of love, a tribute,
and regard as evidenced.
Oh, Grief, my dear old friend;
The gift of all experienced;
A "Fare thee well!", a tale we tell,
and token of time spent.

WoflHeart Way H.E.A.R.T. Spring Retreat 2024