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Susan Deitrick Poem
7/25/21. Hope Cycle
Grief, like Love, is a seasonal thing.
It comes and seems to last forever,
Driving its tentacles deeper
Than it seems possible to penetrate;
Forcing the oozing of emotions
It didn’t seem possible to touch.
And then, entangled, the LovePain ended.
Flash floods or feathery, frozen throws
Would break through and blanket everything
Once that in-between lull had passed.
You know! That timeless, mesmerizing fog
Hiding pathways to or from the heart.
Drought is its own season in Love and Grief.
Odd to see a whirlpool frozen
Right where it had spun so wildly.
More quickly, the meltdown takes all,
As if the process could drain all the pain.
Winter always has to take its stand.
All living things have a right to die
No matter how enchanted their time seemed.
It makes no sense to bury beauty
When joy and appreciation soared.
The last snowfall gives birth to Spring.
The cycle emits a sprig breaking ground;
Little promise moments catch the heart,
Removing the detours to Memory and Hope.
Lessons in Seasons and Language
Sometimes have to be experienced
As mountaintops climbed and enjoyed;
Along with plummeting hard from clifftips
That were too sharp to hold on too long.
No matter how transcendent the view
In the descent, all deeply etch within.
Unwelcome Summer sauntered back in,
With its snapshots of all that is no more.
Yet the sun radiates Promise!
Because one life was so powerf’ly real
Lessons speak louder than loss can block.
Look at the garden beginning to grow again…
So funny, but it doesn’t ask me
For permission to begin once more:
That which died brings its own.
Instead, a mirror in the dew sees me
Stepping from one garden to the next.
Now that I’ve learned how to sow myself
Wisdom says, It’s time to teach another.
Copyright © Susan Deitrick | Year Posted 2021
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Details |
Susan Deitrick Poem
A Spirit-Moment
Every time I find a picture, it's like a new visit with a dear friend.
You are right that the person is never really gone.
After all, once you've given your heart to somebody you truly love,
it's not like you can take it back.
Death just doesn't have that kind of power.
There is something mystical that occurs
Like the heart's threads begin to intertwine:
A Divine Weaving with the Heart of God.
We were born first out of the Love of God
before we were Breathed into our mother's womb.
That birth came out of Something that is about Forever-Life but never death.
That Love Drop fills in with a little human body;
grows into a spiritual being in human flesh;
learns to share itself with another and others;
takes the accumulation with the poured-out self, back to Its Origin.
There, in that Realm which is above, beyond, everywhere that is;
the existence we refer to as Heaven, finds the soul returned to God.
Now, somehow, the same yet transcendent self,
remains part of Its Source, yet free to be herself.
So, of course, such love can't be disconnected.
It is now eternally part of us,
as we remain part of the one(s) we have so connected with.
Family, friend, or spouse. We are oned by the Thread.
It doesn't mean the journey met the Promised Land
and now remains docked in the harbor
until death resumes that which was interrupted.
No, the journey must continue.
Still, there are lessons to live and teach;
more love to allow and be part of.
The beautiful, multicolored web is still being woven.
Copyright © Susan Deitrick | Year Posted 2017
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