Grief’s Dance

The way love feels on my skin.

I felt her near, tapping lightly around the places where I often can sense her closeness.
The sides of my heart, the ball that feels so big and small at the same time, that has burrowed itself deep in my belly.
This burrowing ball requires many breaths.
The air inside my body becomes trapped in this place of holding, as if my whole being might close in on herself.
If I were to keep following it, surely I imagine I might snap in two.

But not following it does not seem like an option.
I have tried not to follow her.
While I am cooking my son breakfast,
while I am playing Guess Who after dinner.
While I am tending to the things that still need tending,
I push her somewhere safe.
Though these days she is more restless, and I wonder if my son can taste my tears in his oatmeal.

I know of her, though.
Even when I am not able to face her.
Even when I must tell her I will see her in a while.

Later came and went until she came again.
The heartbreak,
the pain,
the love.
Grab my hand, little one, big one, infinite one.
Here I am.
Come with me.
Dance me. Move me. Scream me. Cry me. Wail me. Twist me. Turn me.
Bring me to my knees.

Oh, grief, you ancient teacher, sway me into staying in love with you.
Sway me into remembering again and again how to trust you,
how to see you are the medicine to this aching, beating, life-filled, loving heartbreak.
Oh, grief, I hand myself over to you to do with what you see fit.
Contort me if you must, rage me through the pillows that lie neat on my couch, track the vibrations from my throat.
Roar it out loud —

Enough.

No more!

This matters!

Swallow me whole in love.
For pain comes with loving so deeply.
My shape can hold it all, I am reminded.
Our shapes can hold it all, I have seen.
Both grief and beauty dancing together,
flickering open, dimmed with hope, drenched with holy tears.
Rearranged again and again and again.

The soul knows what to do when we make the space for her.
She knows just how to move this body of ours.
She knows just how to shake the trees,
while keeping us heavy and rooted to this very earth.

I must move out of the way because there is so much love.
I hear the voices of those rumbling in the streets.
I hear the cries of the scared and afraid.
I see the ones standing sturdy in strength,
and tall with hope.
I see the ones doing what they can and finding themselves along the way.
I am danced alongside you.

I love alongside you.