Grief is an Ocean

Grief is an ocean.

Pain rides the calm current

That keeps yourself afloat.

Grief is an ocean

Healing halts with heavy tides

That pull and hold you under.

Grief is an ocean.

The deepest depths

reveal a darkness

inexplicably unexplored.

Grief is an ocean.

Where ferocity and fragility are friends

teetering back and forth

taking turns

For sometimes in my grief, I ride the wave and wade in calm and shallow waters.

But other times, I am brutally battered by the persistent bashing and crashing of waves

That I am at its mercy…

Grief.

And all I can do is stop fighting.

Let the wave roll over me

Pull me under

Thrash me about.

Until the calm comes again.

And I can catch my breath.

Lay atop the tired waters

and anticipate its inevitable wrath.

At least it is predictable.

Pervasive but predictable.

A pattern that I can use to prepare me for the cycle I am caught up in.

The cycle that is grief.

Grief is an ocean.