It Begins with Grief

and the clay the brush the pen
call out it is good to answer
for they will weep with us
still at mirrors
we close our eyes
deny recognition
who is it mourns
beneath that veil?

no one answers we pray
that the cloth will fall
one day unneeded
and we shall return to light
or retreat again and again
as many times as we must
it is allowed

for now there is only pain
for now there is only cracking
of the heart the face the breast
will we break in half?
the clay and brush the pen
say no

you will grow, they say
one way or another
you will grow
it begins
and ends with grief…