In caverns, shades, the cascades of grief,
The familial winds blow fierce.
From the same seeds and cavity, we split
In the slightest whispers, the deepest depths.
Tinted by the language of tears,
The tribe divides again.
Another day, another fire, another hope is born.
another day, another fire, another hope…
pretty/wrenching stuff. Thanks. j
I am wrenched and don’t willingly wrench readers, certainly not with the gore of details, but it’s usually writing that helps me find an equilibrium. This cycle of grief and familial pain will run its course and I will write of beauty without the hell.
We need both in our lives, this dark work is some of the best I’ve seen anywhere. And there is no awareness of light without experiencing darkness. Simply beautiful work.
Thank you, my shining light of a friend!
I love this poignant and heart felt poem and illustrated perfectly with scenes that emphasize the words so beautifully. I feel the familial pain and split deeply in my own life. Life is quite a journey indeed.