Grief is despised, often hidden from view
Till teardrops re-kindle within
And struggle to stop, as I always do
Before taking it right on the chin
(Why fight what is meant to help you?)
Being just familiar with grief
Not to know it intimately
Gives us but a bit of relief
Like windows washed inside me
(Much clearer than I can believe!
How then do we understand beauty?
Trusting tears to tell us how deep…
For unwashed eyes just get gritty
While washed eyes soothe us asleep
(Sleep tight now…sleep so peaceably)
Used by permission of the author.