Sunday, September 1, 2013

To love life again?

To love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.

― Ellen Bass


For me, maybe one day?

Not yet.

How about you?

3 comments:

  1. Only because I felt I had to. I owed it to my baby to live for him the life he did not get to live.
    Beautiful poem.

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    Replies
    1. Well said MrsH. Still, it's so hard, isn't it?

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