Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems

Exploring the world of life and grief through poetry.

Tag: Grief

  • 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.

  • She Lives in Me

    She Lives in Me

    For Mom

    I breathe in your essence,
    what you’ve infused into my soul.
    I miss your embrace and the sound of your voice.
    And yet, I feel you walking beside me.
    It’s the light in my eyes when I
    lead with curiosity, whether it’s meeting new people
    or trying new experiences.
    Your childlike wonder showed me
    how to explore the world.
    The willingness to make mistakes and fall,
    knowing that I would rise again.
    You taught me to laugh at myself,
    to laugh with others, but not at them.
    I miss when you’d say,
    “I’m so proud of you.
    You reinvented yourself.
    You could have just given up,
    but you kept going.”
    Those words were uplifting,
    reminding me that I found a way to live
    in the face of grief and trials.
    I never minded
    as your memory faded
    to hear those precious words on repeat
    until they disappeared as well.
    The gift of encouragement,
    especially on days
    that are overwhelming and exhausting,
    still resound in my head.
    It is also a reminder to pay it forward,
    telling those I love how proud I am of them,
    hoping to spread your warmth
    that you left in my keeping.

  • Strange Bed Fellows

    Strange Bed Fellows

    How they walk, hand in hand,
    forever intertwined,
    grief and joy,
    never knowing who will pop up.
    The inexplicable joy that starts
    at the crinkles of your eyes caused
    by the curving of your lips
    as they turn upwards in a smile.
    It is the warm, tingly feeling in your chest
    as your heart celebrates your friend’s good fortune
    or the beauty that surrounds you.
    The ecstasy shines out from your body
    with the strength of the summer sun.
    And you think this bliss will last forever,
    only to have grief roar in
    with the ferocity of a winter blizzard,
    causing whiteout conditions
    that make it hard to navigate
    what once was a breezy, clear day.
    The wind will chill your weary soul
    as it grasps to find its footing.
    The weight will come,
    crashing down on your chest,
    making it hard to breathe.
    Your eyes will glisten with tears,
    as the river spills down your cheeks.
    Looking up from the valley floor,
    you wonder once again,
    “How will I ever get back to the top of the hill?”
    And the amazing thing is this all
    can happen within minutes of each other.
    So, you learn to hold each hand with gentleness,
    knowing that love has knit them together
    as part of the bargain of living.

  • This Fragile Life

    This Fragile Life

    I thought the earth was solid,
    That even the craziness of life had meaning
    Until the day I sat next to your lifeless body,
    My heart shattered, tears streaming down my face.

    No longer could I take a step without
    The ground shaking under my feet,
    Wondering if I would be able to navigate
    this foreign landscape that made no sense.

    Time, as I knew it, no longer existed
    As I watched people rush by like
    They hadn’t felt the tectonic plates shift
    Knowing that they could drop into the abyss at any moment.

    The fog washed over me as I tended to death’s chores.
    The worst were the calls to say that you were dead.
    No one wants to hear those sorrowful words
    That were screaming in my soul.

    I wasn’t prepared to pick out funeral homes,
    Or how many people I would have to speak with
    To arrange my life without you.
    The never-ending paperwork that said you no longer existed.

    Your death changed me,
    Splitting my world into before and after.
    Thirteen years ago, can seem like yesterday
    When I’m hit by a trigger that reminds me
    that you’re never coming back.