Grief

When death and loss and grief fill up my heart And behind an icy wall I am entrapped Where should my work of holy healing start Where is the hidden place where loss is mapped? As on the earth I walk amongst the trees And on the grass I lay my sleeping head I make my friends from stinging wasps and bees Who comfort me on this my own deathbed. Yet do not sun and moon still shine as bright? Do not men and women tender lie. Does not this small glowworm give me light? Do not courting tom cats saunter by? With wider vision spreading from my eyes I see more clearly where my comfort lies