I am gift, not curse;
through me you honour what you love.
I am a constant thread
in the wondrous weave of life.
At times I am a murmuring melody,
at others a clamouring crescendo.
I do not take you hostage;
I sculpt your soul
and hollow you out,
exposing hidden depths.
What is broken apart, unmade,
I make anew.
Through me you understand
that all things pass.
Without me,
neither love nor compassion bloom.
I ripen your heart
to the great work of love.
I connect you
to Life’s currents, to the commons of the soul.
I shout in joyous affirmation
of the great gift of Life.
I am Grief.
I wait for your embrace . . .
Gina Bearne, July 2024