Wishing well

I sit here

Even as I slip

Into the darkness of grief

Thick suffocating unbearable.

I Struggle

As images from the past and future

Crowd my mind

Each demanding its space

like untried victims

Wanting to be seen, to be heard.

I am overwhelmed.

I gasp as I hear their version of stories

Surprise, shock, wonder, acknowledgement, sadness, joy, gratitude, relief

My life seems to have become a kaleidoscope

Somehow, the broken pieces of bangles make meaning

As they come together after every turn.

And bit by little bit

My own narrative seems to be shifting

Of who I was, who I am .

Who Am I?

A daughter, Sister, Niece, grand-daughter, friend, girl guide, mother, teacher…

and so many more people.

I sit here knowing its far from over

Like clouds of grey mist drifting…shifting..changing shape and form

I need to wait and let the darkness settle.

Till I see and pick up

The coins that were thrown by these people

into the dark waters

Long time ago;

With hope and faith

and closed eyes.

So that, someday,

Like today

I would find them.

And know trust again.

with open eyes.

Rhea