Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems

Exploring the world of life and grief through poetry.

Tag: Inspiration

  • When Grief Visits at 4 AM

    When Grief Visits at 4 AM

    The visitation times are posted,
    daytime hours only.
    Do not disturb grievers after 10 pm,
    for they need time to rest and recover
    But grief doesn’t respect the artifice of time,
    arbitrary schedules society places on when we’re allowed to grieve.
    “Love,” it says, “I know you’d rather be sleeping,
    and this is an inconvenient time to visit,
    but sit with me for a while.”
    So, I lie in bed,
    wrapped in my blankets,
    pull out my notes app and write you a letter.
    Tears snake down my face,
    a welcome release from the pain in my chest.
    And just like that, grief releases its hold,
    bids me goodnight and disappears into the ether.

  • Letting Go, Finding Freedom

    Letting Go, Finding Freedom

    “Letting go is what keeps you alive.” Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, from “When Living on a Tiny Island.”

    I squeezed my hands so tight that my knuckles turned white,
    leaving red moon crescents imprinted on my palms.
    Hoping that I could stop time,
    and everything that lay ahead of me.
    How foolish to think that I had so much power.
    And yet, that was my habit,
    the insanity that I had always employed
    with no success.
    It took time to release my death grip,
    learning from the wisdom of others
    that the only influence that I possessed
    was over my own behaviors and thoughts.
    Frankly, my brain can still be
    the most dangerous neighborhood to visit.
    When I slowly let go of that which I couldn’t control,
    my body began to relax, and I could breathe again.
    I learned that love was holding people in my heart,
    no matter what our relationship was.
    Giving them the dignity to follow their own path
    freed me to follow mine.

  • Elephant Memory of Grief

    Elephant Memory of Grief

    Like elephants’ store memories
    that allow for their survival
    and to protect them from danger,
    we amass our grief experience.
    And though we would like to forget the pain
    when emotional anniversaries arise,
    our insides never forget.

    The brain says, “The anniversary of your beloved
    is close at hand.”
    And whether it was a year, or 13 years, or 25,
    your brain replays the time leading up to that
    horrible day in anticipation, as if it will happen
    again. No matter how rational your brain,
    death never makes sense.
    The absence is too profound.

    The heart says, “Your heart will always
    ache for your loved one.”
    You’ll wonder how you will walk through
    one more deathiversary, no matter
    how well you manage in life.
    For it’s the companionship, encouragement,
    the morning hug, and the support that your
    special person gave you will never be matched,
    for they were one of a kind.

    The body says, “Even if your brain and heart could forget,
    I will remind you as I course through your system,
    like defibrillator paddles”
    The tightness in the chest returns.
    The tears flow down your cheeks
    as you once again remember that this is your reality.
    Anxiety that something else bad will happen
    disrupts your days and nights
    A sluggishness returns as time stands still
    and barrels to the date of dread.

    The first year was the hardest
    because I truly thought that Mike would die again
    and I would have to relive the nightmare,
    not yet comprehending that death happens once.

    Now, my brain, heart, and body know
    that I can’t predict what day
    the anticipation will kick in,
    but it will come.
    I’ve also learned that the day itself will never be
    as bad as the days leading up to the death date,
    though the day after might be.
    However, my system will settle down to
    the low hum of grief that is
    forever a part of love.

  • Rising From The Ashes

    Rising From The Ashes

    I was sure that the ashes of the life that I had
    before my husband died would bury me alive.
    The dull embers of what was left behind,
    were threatened with extinction by the weight of grief
    that encompassed my soul,
    making each step, each decision exhausting,
    as I traveled this world without my partner.

    And yet, with time and tears, the weight began to lift
    as I reentered life.
    No longer the woman I was,
    for she will never exist again.
    Instead, I had to find another me,
    with memories of my previous life
    serving as an anchor,
    and sails to set me on my new course.

    If I had made a vision board,
    none of the endeavors I would try
    would have been within the scope of my imagination.
    It was only when I was willing to say yes to life,
    full of trepidation and anxiety, my world began to grow.
    With each new adventure, I gained confidence.
    My mantra became, “I’ve already lived through the
    most painful episode in my life, how can anything be worse?”
    The grief was still a companion,
    but so was the joy of learning to be creative,
    which has provided the most healing
    for my broken heart.

  • I Love You This Much

    I Love You This Much

    “Such strange math. The way it takes so little to create a joy so large.” Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

    Little did I know,
    my sweet Hummingbird friend,
    that all the special qualities
    that I have ascribed to you
    when you flit about me
    were already known by generations of Native Americans.
    Your mere presence and perfection
    reminds me of how much I am loved,
    that something so perfect exists in the world
    is a gift that I never take for granted.
    I feel immense joy as I watch you maneuver
    backwards and forwards, diving down to your favorite flower,
    to fill yourself with nectar, satisfying your hunger.
    You put on an air show with maneuvers
    that would put the best pilot to shame.
    And if the stars are aligned,
    I get to see you at rest on a branch,
    or bathing in a reflecting pond,
    taking a moment to breathe in the world.
    I stop as I take in your minute details,
    calmness overtaking me as I
    cherish this time we spend together.
    You bring me hope and healing when my soul is troubled,
    reminding me that there’s time to explore the world,
    but I must rest as well, if I’m to absorb
    the splendor that surrounds me.