grove, to have grieved


...sitting here typing my emotions onto this virtual page
as if the feelings will  either disappear in this torrent of words
or become permanent by having been revealed and published, publicized,
civilized, brought out into daylight...grappling with grief again, not the heavy sadness but the seriously numbing variety that reveals the acceptance of the tragic as just the new norm of the new rhythm of a new quotidian reality. Acceptance is good. It is factual, true, it reveals how things are and spotlights what we face in desire; what we want to be and what cannot be. The gulf between feeling and knowledge. The winds and storms of emotion rage above the solid landscape below.
I walk in the landscape, being a farmer and not a bird. But my emotions would gladly wing away to her soul's side and give up this mantle, while my body in his sad realism will keep wandering the paths that lead to work and the loss of self that will mask her absence...

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