Grief takes refuge in the pause,
Feeding off of the moments of reflection, the control that we let go of,
The composure we let slip, and the in-betweens.
These are all invitations for grief to herself in.
Grief does not travel a linear orbit,
There is no finish line, there is no completion.
Grief rises, grief falls,
Grief demands our attention.
Grief sits in the darkest crevices of our vessel.
The cavern of our body offers a cool, dark spaciousness,
A freedom of wilderness and terrain,
A refuge from the light of the day, the truth seeking, and the willingness to move on.
When grief rises, she roars like the waves of the ocean.
Grief resembles the two sides of Janus,
The knowingness of the moments when we need to be composed and the vulnerability that surfaces when we
least expect it.
Grief is strong in wit and strong in body.
Grief is omnipresent,
Grief lies at the dead-ends,
The wrong turns,
The should-have and the could-haves.
Grief does not beg, nor demand,
But she hints at what she needs.
Grief craves times, space,
A warm embrace and somebody to hold the pain.
Maybe today, grief will release me.
Author: Caitlin Oriel
Editor: Katarina Tavčar