Grief’s Burden
written by: Kathleen Chamberlin
Grief is the suffocating air on a humid day
Sodden and oppressive
Clinging to every pore,
Weighing on every muscle,
Every breath labored.
Grief is the thickening fog after a storm,
Disorienting and blinding,
The pathway shrouded,
Rendering our steps tentative,
Arms outstretched, groping for stability:
We stagger toward a future filled with echoes
Of stilled voices and haunting smiles
Fading like will-o-wisps.
Grief is a gale force wind, whipping wildly against the citadel of the heart
Threatening to tear the roof off,
Battering the windows until they shatter,
Bringing us to our knees as surely as an uppercut to the jaw.
Grief is a flash flood, a river overflowing its banks,
Sweeping away everything
Churning up mud and toppling even the mightiest oak.
Grief is the shrapnel of an exploded bomb,
Penetrating the body and scarring the soul,
Permanently embedded, removal impossible.
Grief is the silent scream,
The clawing animal, dragging itself
From somewhere deep within the heart’s core
Burrowing, settling itself, an unwanted weight that must be carried.
- Grief’s Burden - May 13, 2024
