“Grief. Hello old friend;
your visit is unexpected.
this time you come in a carriage of a song’s lyric and melody;
why not come as you have before?
through captured images in my hand or on a screen?
in the eyes and gestures of one who is younger?
through a word spoken?
even through whispers of creation’s breath?
no matter –- you are here . . .
I must admit —
I dread your appearance at my threshold;
your gifts –- fear, loss, pain -– are ones I do not want to open;
but you insist . . .
I am learning though -–
learning to welcome your impromptu visits;
so, come to my door by whatever mode you choose;
come in and sit,
have a cup of tea with me;
and please, open my gifts to you . . .
a treasure chest of memories,
laughter echoing from stories lived,
Hope that transcends presence,
Peace – peace, flowing like a river deep inside me . . .
welcome . . .
