Grief is the crow
that stole the moon
and hid it in the shadows.
Grief is the shadow
that forgot the moon
and searches endlessly.
The heart an empty bowl,
a hand curls around
nothing but memory.
The end of grief
comes suddenly.
The crow soars
dark against the sun
and the heart soars with him,
free.
She spread
on the surface
of the great green
water,
star-shaped.
Her heart
told a tale
that would crack
land
with its
violence
but currents
softly carried
each secret
to wise depths.
As her heart
bled out
she became
the unbreakable
ocean.
When she gathered
herself,
to return to her world
to keep quiet again
there was grief.
It was not her time
to rest
in the immensity
of natural love
she
star-shaped,
had to walk
the land again.
Walking through pines,
their tears
on my face
-yesterday’s rain.
The grey sweet
stillness
of the lake
invites.
I keep walking
under weeping trees
the lake, I hold
in my heart
or maybe it
holds me.
This is inspired by the ever reflective Loch Voil in the Scottish Highlands.
Inky Cat's Poems 