There are people in my life at the moment carry loss – deep loss, unexpected loss, unfair loss, wave after wave of losses and change. I find myself standing on the edges of it, breath held I fill up like a balloon holding the pressure of these things and hoping they will make a companion of grief when she calls. Hoping that they will be tender with themselves. This is the poem I have written for them.

…

she will come to you

of this I am sure

insistent, intense, quiet

…

and you will raise your voice

and your pace

and make snide comments in her presence

about people who wallow

instead of getting on

making the best of things

tough things happen to everyone

…

you will silently pat yourself on the back

even as your palms tingle

breath shortens

heart beats as a bird unwillingly caged

you feel her waiting

her breath hot upon your collar

…

she will not breach the high walls of your hard work

your effort

your white knuckled cheerful determination

…

as a friend I bid you welcome her

I do not deny it will be painful

for a time

all your fortifications knocked down

the city of your emotions ravaged

…

you will hate her

but

if you will finally raise the ragged flag of your surrender

you will find her not a tyrant

but a handmaid

…

she has not caused the wound

but she will undress and re-dress it

she will tend to its realities

gentle, she will offer you rest as a prescription

she will speak aloud the names you have forbidden

…

after a time she will whisper you lullabies

and hold you while you weep

collecting every tear

as evidence of

your courage to see and bear

and let your heart keep limping in its beating

…

friend

I bid you welcome grief

she is a tender companion

to accompany you

to the other side of this great wound

…

Miriam Jessie x