Acceptance

 

A year ago

I was grieving

your flower faces

and every bulb

that slept

and every little

and great

thing I'd lost

or stood to lose

No rational

reassurance

of springs to come

No admonition

to lift my

onerous privilege

--no real cross--

could sooth

the grief

that clawed for purchase

dragging denial, anger, guilt, and depression

tangled

indistinguishable

And yet

And

Yet

Here we are

another spring

with all our losses

and our luck

our burdens

and our blessings

our fears

and our future

ready

to bloom

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