I can show you a cup of flour,
or a pound of sugar, and
I’ve gotten pretty good at
scooping a two ounce cookie,
but I am at a loss to quantify
how heavy grief is,
how long a heart stays broken,
the depth of damage done,
how far it is to forgiveness,
the speed of the sound of loneliness —
even as I strain to comprehend
how a heart like yours
can hold a galaxy of grace,
how sorrow becomes weightless
in the gravity of your love,
how home is as close as you
calling my name in the dark
calling my name . . .
Peace,
Milton
I found you by googling “why sheild the joyous” and found your reflection the prayer in BCP. Thank you.
Totally immeasurable because each happening is different for so many different reasons. My blessings.
Beautiful and true. So many things are beyond measure.
Reminds me of this: “It smells like God when you lay your head on His chest.” Danae Blessing story here: http://www.cp-sk.org/inspirationalpage68.htm
I, too, am at a loss to quantify how heavy grief is. Any yet, as I am coming out the other side of the sharpness of grief, I am starting to see how soft the edges can be.
For me, the word is: weary. It seem to never end.