Grief Date Written 03/02/2008 Poem by Clare McWilliams

Death rips a hole out of your stomach
And prepares your throat for tears that never come.
Anguish wells up and bends you double,
Stricken, you must yield to crippling grief.

Eyes become windows to unspoken
Torment that cannot be relayed.
Wallow- in the cold mud of the lost ones
Or wake and cleanse with the light of now.

Yearn for all that is forgotten
Yet bring a new dawn from the gone.
Soon your eyes can meet anothers'
Gaze into futures' pregnant womb.

Death rips out that hole to plant a small seed
Of newness that will germinate inside.
Learning that the dead leaves to compost you
Tear clouds that water tender bulbs.

Eyes see anew what has been growing
Stronger and more succulent sapling.
Open up your flower of perfect beauty
It's time to let the frozen world back in.