Autumn and her many moods
/she was never staying long in this world –
it’s a kind of truth that only your bones can understand
but this brittle autumn air always chokes me with its taunting anticipation
she was never staying long in this world –
it’s a kind of truth that only your bones can understand
but this brittle autumn air always chokes me with its taunting anticipation
Inevitably, each spring as the rains bring greenery to the brownish hills, I feel it in my body before I know it in my mind. I will soon return to the closest point of my orbit. I feel her warmth on my skin more intensely than before. The orange poppies that bloomed in the sidewalk cracks and medians when she was born are pushing into view.
Read MoreThe snail carries its home on its back and keeps growing that home as it needs to, though I like to imagine it can, like a hermit crab, discard one home for another when the first just won’t do. A falling star, like the one I saw above the mountains on the night you left us, shoots off into the atmosphere and burns itself off. Where have you gone, little one? Where did you find to make your home, alone, in the wilds, without me?
Read MoreBereaved parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion, and the other side of getting through this mess called grief.
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Parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion we learn for others, having been through this mess — and see it reflected back at you, acknowledged and understood.
Thanks to photographer Xin Li and to artist Stephanie Sicore for their respective illustrations and photos.
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