Siren
Rocks stabbing my soles as I step through
Sea glass into foam and wade into the
Tide and then keep stepping
One foot and then the other
My arms open doors as
Water drinks my legs and torso
Breasts and shoulders and
Then blessedly my head
As I sing Our Mother into me
And float into
Rhapsody
Amen
Hey, reader. I hope you liked Siren.
A bit more serenity in this piece than in some of my recent writing. I’m still angry, still sad, but … life goes on. Sucks but true. Bills are still due. Work expects me. Tub needs scrubbed and the dog wants walked soon.
Time is the tide — it doesn’t stop for anything. Not our fury. Not our pain. Everything keeps going. Birthdays and Christmases, moving homes, other loved ones growing older and being born and dying. Our own little milestones we can’t tell them about. Like, “Dad, I got that raise,” or “Dad, those rhododendrons I planted are finally coming in.”
But while Time moves on, Grief stays with us. A small thing at first that grows massive in spurts, quickly rooting down into a thick, intricate system that winds all the way through you. Things you never knew were part of it, shrink back suddenly with too much light and air. Things left too long in shadow start to fade. Some things prick your heart with thorns when you try tending them. Like his laugh. Or his singing.
Yeah … So obviously I’m still hella fucking sad. But I’m hanging in there. Writing and drawing my way through a lot of it.
How are you doing? Life’s fucking hard for most of us right now I think, in one way or another. I hope you’re okay enough, at least. That’s what I settle for most days.
And I’m so glad you’re here. 🖤 Thank you for reading all this. The outro really played for time in this one, I guess. If you’re new, welcome — if you’re not, welcome back. Those of you who return to and share my work so generously mean more to me than you know. Thank you.
Buttons below, do the appropriate heart / comment / share / sub thing if the spirit moves you. Thanks again for reading!