How Time Blurs

Time blurs as the days bleed together.

Each day is a continuation, a reliving of the previous day. Not much changes when you are stuck in a perpetual state of waiting. The gold lettering stitched into the navy carpet lining the floor of the elevator reminds you it is Sunday; the second Sunday in this elevator. Such simple things are often forgotten in a twilight space. Somehow, you move forward as an unknown force shepherds you along the path with an undesirable destination.

Resolve melts as the autumn sun shines in a clear cerulean sky.

The juxtaposition of life's beauty and injustice is evident as the water laps the rocky shore outside the window from the second floor. It is the perfect view. Looking out is much easier than looking in. The unseasonably warm days are a cruel tease, a false promise. Expectations rise like tides but must be tempered. There will be no easing into the colder days yet to come.

Hope fades as the luscious green leaves darken to brick and rust.

Soon, these leaves will only be a distant memory of another season. Like the trees, you stand helpless as nature reclaims a once vibrant life. You are left barren, unprotected, vulnerable. There is no choice but to endure the onslaught of the harsh elements that await you.

Pain grows as the night slowly steals the sunlight each day.

The days are long, though the nights begin to stretch. Stars in the night sky pilfer the light as despair consumes your energy yet does not allow the reprieve of sleep. Each night, you are left with the dull ache at the front of your skull, the pressure in your jaw from clenched teeth, the tightness at the back of your throat. Numbness spreads like a paralytic virus as your body melds to the mattress and your eyes burn until you can no longer see in the darkness.

Sorrow lingers as the cool mist thickens and crawls between the trees.

The dampness hangs as a ladened curtain, clinging to your skin like an unwanted companion. Sadness drags behind you, a sodden blanket pulled across a bed of dried leaves, unearthing rooted memories. With the scurry of a squirrel, you collect these treasured moments and hold them tight, knowing they will be the warmth you seek as the winter creeps in.

Tears fall as the flower petals float to the ground.

A delicate bow gently drawn across violin strings rips the tears from your eyes, slicing open your heart. The shaking of trembling hands, the whispered sympathies from unfamiliar faces, the floral fragrances a colorful facade; all an overwhelming shock of reality. You step outside into the sun and close your eyes as the echoes of happiness wash over you, dancing in the wind. Like the leaves, they become graceful ballerinas, twisting and twirling, untethered and free to rest in peace.

Grief grounds you as time moves forward.

Your feet are planted in the muddy earth, stuck in place while the world carries on around you. An immense weight rests on your shoulders, one that you cannot shake. You shiver as the falling sun sets on the horizon and the sky illuminates in a brilliant display of rose and lilac ribbons. Dusk may be approaching, but you know that it is only a matter of time until dawn breaks.

Grief grounds you so those who have passed can rise.

*

Author's Note: This was written over the past two emotional weeks as a progression of grief.

In loving memory of the amazing woman who raised the man I will love forever and beyond. Although I try to express my emotions through writing, words cannot truly convey the heartbreak.

I hope you are finally at peace. We will miss you and love you forever. J.E.M. March 20, 1965 - October 29, 2024.

Poems written in this time of grief: