We All Have Our Losses
We all have our losses.
We grieve for them
Cry for them
They haunt us like fog sits over the meadow
Hanging over our soul just out of reach
But close enough to smell and feel
searing into our hearts the wretched pain
leaving it’s smoking brand buried into the flesh.
A constant reminder of past lapses in judgment
embedded in our skin screaming to us to remember.
I’ve seen the waves of grief in eyes. Smelled
the stench of agony in the air. Felt the sting
and aches of pain in a heart.
Losses, we all have them yet
If on a different plane we take ourselves there
It can find you above it.
The clearness. The fog shifts.
The blurry visions we came to know as reality
Are now gone. The damage was done.
But now. Peering across gentle waves
the limpid air has a pure fragrance.
Then we see. We know.
We haven’t lost them
but found ourselves