Bereavement – Page 8 – Hearts Still Care

“When a heart is broken”

When a heart is broken,
It is a quiet event;
And words get spoken
None can prevent.

Yet a heart is broken
So Nature reflects the pain:
Fell things are awoken,
Fire and fume, ice and rain.

Feelings are cyclones;
Tears are a flood;
Fears are the crones
That demand blood.

The very earth rumbles;
The skies are torn apart;
Every pulpit crumbles,
At the breaking of a heart.

Strange how lifting
A body in death,
Though wrecks my back,
Still leaves me with breath;

But stifling
a heart break
Stops all air
my lungs make.

It keeps threatening to consume me whole:

This dark night of my questionable soul.

Death, separation and heartbreak,

I dread to think of what else they take.

For now as the summer sun grows hot

And the very earth condemns our lot,

The fates conspire and repel all desire.

Mourning comes in the building of a pyre,

With rules and laws, medicines and food,

What should I beg for and to what good?

I cannot blame an evil eye, or sin,

For all this breaking and screaming within.

It seems hopeful to call it the forge of life

And believe in higher metaphors of strife.

I’d rather know less of grief than I must;

I’d rather seek anything else to trust.