Mar 16 • 1M

An Instrument for Grieving

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Poems for curious thinkers.
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Mount Rainier. Washington, USA. © 2019 Ash Morgan

You can still love them.
Go on.
It’s ok.
I give you permission.

(Not that you need it, but still, I offer it to you.)

No, not that love,
The love that ended conversations.
The love born of habit.

Nor that love,
The love that tended to small hurts.
The love born of existence.

Nor even that love,
The love that provided food and shelter and safety.
The love born of life itself.

You see,
The love that endures
Is chosen.

Chosen in moments of joy.
Chosen in moments of pain.
Chosen in moments of mundanity.

Choosing to love
Because of.
Rather than in spite of.

Loving their light
For what it revealed about them.
And about you.

Loving their voice
For its harmony with yours.
And for its counterpoint.

Loving their gravity
For how it could reshape the world.
And for the loss now felt.

And yet,
The love that remains
Is a key.

Even now,

It unshutters their light.
It unmuffles their voice.
It unfolds them from your soul.

Like the phoenix,
They are reborn

And by loving them
You are transformed.


As always, I would love to hear what reading or listening to this piece evoked in you. What was the effect? How will it ripple through you and out from you? Leave a comment below.