Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems

Exploring the world of life and grief through poetry.

Category: Poetry

  • What If

    What If

    On Living With a Chronic Condition

    Sweetheart, it’s okay to stop fighting.
    It’s not giving up, but coming to terms
    with the reality that was not of your choice.
    For if combat was an option against
    a body that refuses to work the way it once did,
    you would be better by now.
    The stash of energy that you could draw on before
    is now depleted and doesn’t recharge easily.
    What if you chose to shower yourself
    with kindness and compassion instead?
    It wouldn’t undo the physical changes,
    but, oh, how it will soothe your weary soul.
    It will give you the space to breathe deeply,
    What if you treat yourself like
    your best friend?
    How gentle you would be,
    holding them in a warm loving embrace,
    meeting them right where they’re at.
    What if you allowed yourself to grieve
    the life you once lived so easily?
    It’s not a sign of weakness or surrender,
    but choosing to find some serenity
    on a journey that is already wearisome.
    I know, sweetheart, that there are days
    when it all feels too much, but what if
    you took a moment, an hour, a day,
    to give yourself a break from the demands in your head
    and just be.

  • Night Tears

    Night Tears

    In the darkness of the night,
    when my body wants nothing more than to sleep,
    I awake to the quiet of my room,
    Alone, lonely, tears forming in my eyes.
    Unprovoked by dreams,
    the sadness shows up,
    an unwelcome friend that
    doesn’t get the hint they weren’t invited
    and it’s time to leave.
    “Sweetheart, it’s okay to cry,” they say.
    “Not at 4 in the morning!” I shout,
    as I try to lull myself back to sleep.
    “Okay,” they answer, “I’ll see you later.”
    And they evaporate just like the
    tears that had escaped.
    And I managed to drift off until
    the morning light filters through the window.
    As promised, they meet me as I open my eyes,
    gently stroking my face, reminding me
    that the tears will always come,
    but so will the joy and laughter.
    “It’s because you love, my darling,
    that you must feel it all.”

  • Never Enough Time

    Never Enough Time

    Tonight, my heart aches for you,
    as your absence stretches out like the universe.
    Where memories of you are as numerous as the stars,
    but your presence is forever out of reach.
    You were my strength and font of wisdom
    when I felt lost and scared.
    No trip was too long to take to help me out,
    my road warrior who loved to be behind the wheel.
    You held me tight when I was young,
    protective of your brood of children.
    I still remember the tears on my cheeks
    when you would leave us at camp
    to return to work for the week.
    How I wish I could sit by your side
    just one more time and hear the love in your voice,
    the joy you had recounting your many adventures.
    But one more time would never be enough.
    So, I trek through this world,
    buoyed by the love you infused in me.
    I carry you with me wherever I go,
    sharing stories with people who didn’t
    have the good fortune to know you.
    But then there will be days like this,
    when my body isn’t working right
    and I’m hollowed out, that I’ll
    long to hear you say, “Hey, Jen. It’s dad.
    I’ll talk to you later.”

  • Befriending Tears

    Befriending Tears

    Inspired by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer’s poem, “Gold Medal”

    “Don’t cry,” they said. “They wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
    So, I hid my tears in the solitude of my room,
    away from prying eyes.
    Not wanting to upset someone else.
    Wanting to appear strong for those who counted on me.
    For I remember seeing the infrequent tears of my parents,
    and how distressing it was for me.
    But hiding my sorrow was a disservice
    to those I love and myself.
    For crying and strength are compatriots,
    part of being human.
    And though I’ve been a sensitive soul
    who has wept easily most of my life,
    I no longer feel the need to be in the closet.
    For there are so many things that bring tears to my eyes.
    Acts of kindness are always at the top of the list.
    The songs that touch my heart,
    sometimes for their mere beauty
    or because they bring back a bittersweet memory.
    The beauty that exists in nature.
    Or tears that come unbidden when I ache
    for my loved ones who are no longer here.
    Being my authentic self means
    that not only am I free to express my tears,
    but I also laugh from the depth of my being,
    and love with the intensity of a million suns.

  • We Are All Connected

    We Are All Connected

    As the news showed the images
    of the devastation of the midair crash in DC
    followed by a jet crash in Philadelphia two days later,
    my heart ached for the lives that were cut short,
    and for their family and friends who were
    entering a nightmare not of their choosing.
    Having lived through the sudden death of my husband,
    the life I knew was altered, unrecognizable
    as my heart lay on the floor, shattered.
    No longer could I see the tragedies of the world
    as numbers, but as individuals whose lives
    would never be the same again.
    For it was in my awakening from the searing pain of grief,
    that I recognized all of humanity is intertwined.
    That we are meant to be with each other,
    holding each other in compassion.
    I couldn’t sit on the sidelines
    in the face of others’ pain,
    whether it was from the death of a loved one
    or other losses caused by unforeseen life changes.
    I knew I couldn’t take away their agony,
    but I could share the gifts I had,
    hoping to bring some comfort,
    no matter how small.