grief

there is no deeper sorrow than to lose a child.

each day an apprenticeship in grief, each day

searching for meaning, for solace, seeking

beauty, seeking ritual ...

as I go to Owen's Pond today, finding a 

tiny crevice under a majestic tree, the tree
I have sat underneath for so many weeks,

praying.

I start a small collection of beauty, of the earth,

of soil, of decay and renewal, the endurance

of the rock, the beauty of the snowberry, its

white purity, a fallen leaf, the end of

summer and time for rest and decay.

I will find Owen here as he has returned to

the universe; in the quiet here, I will pause

and listen to the birds, look for the ducks 

and the turtles, watch the squirrels, 

just as I had described to Owen.

He will always love the stories and the 

love we shared.

I will always love him.  11/16/2021