Build a House for Grief Build a house for Grief, Tin roofed, for the company of rain. Windows open wide, for breathing. By a creek, at the end of the road. Yours alone. Take your time. Build a house for Grief, With a window seat, for watching. Pillow it with faded quilts of old soft silk. Hook up a clawfoot tub. Stack thick towels nearby. Find lavender studded soap. Carry rocks from the creek bed, for the hearth. Stack the chimney slowly, mortaring with memories. Take your time. When you find a heart rock, place it tenderly by the photo on the scarred kitchen table. Build a house for Grief. Take your time. Make soup. Bake bread. Sweep the kitchen. Keep one closet empty, lined with cedar. Yours alone. No one will hear you. Dig a garden for Grief. Watch sweet peas twine over sills and rise to the rafters. Tuck bulbs into soil, for later. Spit plum pits from the porch. After the blossoms fall, When the trees are tall enough, stretch a clothesline. Wash a load of sheets. Give them to the sky to dance themselves dry. Grief will come home. Kicking off her shoes at the door. Letting herself in. She has her own key. Welcome her, with soup. Stay up too late, talking. Draw her a bath in a pool of moonlight. Let her spend the night. She will stay As long . . .as you need. ~ PattyMara Gourley Art: Grief by Cynda LuClaire Katharine Krueger ~ Journey Of Young Women
Posted on: Thu, 20 Mar 2014 07:21:57 +0000