Rains come, pounding rooftops,
saturating every inch of soil
down to the deep.
Water creeps under floorboards,
pours past garage doors,
gushes into low-lying collection basins.
Bridges connecting small
country roads turn impassable,
the ones aging at the bottom
of mountains near abandoned
railroad tracks.
Grief is a sister to flood rain.
Holding hands, they roll
over restraining walls.
Together they stream, surge, cascade —
out over the land
of the heart, into valleys
of the mind, through the dark woods.
Grief is love uncaged —
overflowing, endless love.
Grief is love realized and released.
Grief is love let free.
~ From 100 Words: Small Servings of Whimsy and Wisdom to
Calm the Mind and Nourish the Heart (Balboa Press, 2018)
