Friday, February 13, 2015

Grief Becomes

Grief Becomes

Grief tones out
like a bell, the sound endless
and drawn out like an
unbreakable thread, until it turns
into a soft, sweet song.

Until the flesh bones blood heart
begin to rot and decay,
begin to break down,
become absorbed into the soil,
as all evil will.

As all evil will
become a peaceful garden,
where new seeds swell and
break open, and I can walk,
breathing the clean air,

Filled with birdsong and hope.
Where I can see children playing—
luckier than me—
who won’t have to know
about the dying part.