searching hope

Posted on June 30, 2012 by Elea Lee

once wrote

about

a counterpane

of fish

living

fish–

a dream

breathed into life by a

quilter

and a Man

who says

I will make you

fishers

of men

all these years later

I walk all the edges

of another woman’s storm

the signal tracks

from the

coast of Texas

all the way to the Pacific

crossing fast

too fast

toward winter…

Australia?

can you be there?

already?

that is what I would think if I were your mother

I would search the shore,

each map

the satellite

dropped pins

and the faces of

friends and strangers

for signs of my missing

son.

It is strange

Posted on June 28, 2012 by Elea Lee

to sit in a room

meant for song

and watch the women in the room

grieve so

quietly

for lost

and missing

fathers

insomnia

Posted on February 25, 2012 by Elea Lee

The house is quiet. I can hear the wind outside but inside it is warm, almost safe. My house would feel safer if the world was safer. If police officers were brave. If money were no object; instead: justice.
I can see Him look at me when I begin to whine internally.
His expression is wry when He has every right to be fierce
you know this belongs to Me, He says
I know.
I know it is His because of the pain
the plunge into darkness
swallowing the abyss whole
He returns to us
if this were a poem
instead of survival
i would call it
“unfair”

snake bite

Posted on February 20, 2012 by Elea Lee

my husband says i talk too much. he is right, but all my other choices are addicting. i like the comic b-movie image of a scruffy cowboy bit by a snake. the other fella helps him out by cutting clean into the wound and swiftly sucking out the venom. he spits and grimaces, spits and grimaces. tragedy averted!

but not real life…
in read life the poison kills or spreads pain; you may or may not have the antidote.

now apply that metaphor to the grief my children feel about the way their brother stole their childhood.

words are not enough

kp’s dad

Posted on January 2, 2012 by Elea Lee

KP I picture I picture your father one minute in his backyard and the next walking into the dazzling light of God

em said

Posted on January 2, 2012 by Elea Lee

Em said she found herself crying over a lost comb. She sounded bemused. I told her that we all have the same problem. Because of what Sea did the hurt is too big and we carry it around. Small issues of loss or conflict trigger outpourings of grief.

Carrying Light

Words for light

Tag Archives: grief