March 3rd, 2019

[rs] grave

waiting for a ride in the dark

you can’t control grief.
grief does what grief needs to do.
not in a way like: yeah, you suck it, i’m grief
nobody tells me what to do
i’m going to that underground music festival
and i’m coming back with a scrotum piercing
and you go ahead
you try to stop me

as much as we might want it to be so simple
it is never so simple as:
if that’s how you’re going to be, grief,
you are grounded for two weeks.
no television. no phone.
your father locked your bicycle in the shed
you will not get it back
for two weeks. you will only leave the house
for school and church.
now you go to your room, grief,
and you think about what you’ve done.

this isn’t a matter of discipline.
you cannot discipline grief.
try and die. walking dead, at least.

love is grief
grief is love

some might say it’s a shadow manifestation
i see it more as the root: what draws love
up from mystery, from the darkest places
and channels it into purpose and structure
a reason to continue
a reason to recover
a reason to learn to be as you are:
a being in grief.

you can’t control grief.
you shape grief a container.
you witness it as it needs to unfold.
you tend grief.
you tend yourself grieving.

you make this offering
you accept this offering
as an instrument of the divine
as the song of the divine.
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