Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems

Exploring the world of life and grief through poetry.

Author: Jennifer Mullins

  • Reaching for Light in Times of Darkness

    Reaching for Light in Times of Darkness

    Inspired by the Images from the James Webb Telescope

    When this world becomes too much,
    with its barrage of news of cruelty,
    and I’ve done all that is within my power to change,
    I stretch my arms out to the universe,
    and let myself be drawn into the beauty
    of far-off galaxies,
    images that are sent back to earth
    from the space telescope wandering around the sun.
    I lose myself in the brilliance of the nebulae
    that are light years away,
    where stars begin and end their lives in the dust of space.
    The vivid colors dance across the cosmos,
    unconstrained by the pettiness of humankind,
    for we are mere specks in the grand design.
    And yet, I must shine my light, too,
    in this place that I call home.

  • On Visiting a Garden Shop

    On Visiting a Garden Shop

    The task was simple.
    Buy air filters and a tomato cage for my blossoming plant.
    But I forgot about the siren song that would greet me
    upon entering the garden section,
    with its intoxicating array of flowers in bloom,
    singing for me to draw near and bring them home.
    I did not have the wisdom of Odysseus to prepare
    for my voyage along the aisles of yellow and purple daisies,
    pink snapdragons, and fuchsia dianthus.
    The white and rosy cacti blooms,
    beckoned, if only to be photographed.
    For they shine briefly before retreating
    until spring comes again.
    The sweet warm air was a balm for my soul
    as I took in the majestic display of flowers
    before summoning the strength to leave
    with just four flowering containers
    to add to my assortment of
    patio potted plants,
    who are always ready for more company.

  • If I Could Dog-Ear a Day

    If I Could Dog-Ear a Day

    Title inspired by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

    I’d mark the days when it was just the three of us,
    sitting around the glass-top table in your cozy Florida kitchen.
    Although one of five children,
    for those times, I was your only child,
    soaking up the sweetness of having you two all to myself.
    The click, click, click of the cards as we shuffled the deck
    for the many games of rummy we’d play.
    Sharing stories of your life, often heard, but always enjoyed.
    Mom, always bragging about being the
    rummy champion on Center Street as a child,
    was never a graceful loser but was always ready to start anew.
    Dad holding onto his cards to get the most points in a play,
    even if it meant losing big if one of us played the last card first.
    These simple everyday moments are treasures
    I hold onto when I miss you the most.

  • Relentless Appreciation

    Relentless Appreciation

    Finding Joy After Loss

    When the heart breaks open from the searing pain of
    unbearable loss and the walls crumble to the ground,
    the unimaginable happens:
    relentless appreciation for what is left behind.
    It streams from my soul with the force of a tsunami.
    My love for those I meet in person and online has grown,
    and I feel joy when I spend time in their presence.
    My soul is filled with peace as I traverse the garden path,
    captivated by the beauty of the flowering plants
    and the perfumed, soaked air they create.
    I watch the flying creatures with fascination as they busy themselves finding food and building homes.
    I love the sound of birdsong, whether I’m wandering outside
    or enjoying their symphony from inside my home.
    For knowing there is but a short time
    between birth and death, I breathe in deeply
    all that life has to offer me.

  • Extraordinary Power of Everyday Moments

    Extraordinary Power of Everyday Moments

    For Mike

    Because love is about the small everyday moments that we share,
    the pain of your absence was especially severe in
    the early minutes, hours, days, months and years after you died.
    The song you wrote that first captured my heart.
    How I fit so neatly into your embrace,
    especially in the mornings when we met in the kitchen for breakfast.
    The way that you shaved my legs when my pregnant
    belly made that task an impossibility.
    Your words of encouragement when I’d try something new,
    believing in me when I didn’t have faith in myself.
    How we were partners in running the house,
    each bringing our special talents so no one carried all the weight.
    You were my companion in parenting our kids,
    never shying away from dirty diapers or vomiting children.
    Even wringing out the cloth diapers that had been soaking
    in bleach before putting them in the wash.
    Being my person to run things by, even if I knew what I wanted to do.
    It was nice not to have to make every decision alone.
    The way that only you could wash the laundry,
    so that the clothes felt just right.
    Going to concerts together.
    Quiet evenings at home watching our favorite shows.
    The sense of humor and inside jokes we shared.
    The list goes on of these extraordinary ordinary moments
    that I miss so much about you.