It’s grief that drags us down:
not gravity;
Yet each loss is grave
Leads to our grave
And is a grievous weight of soul
Not to be born alone
But woven into silken weaves
To warm and stroke and shelter:
I am a shawl for you.
Jeanne
Tongue Twister#27 Grief
10 Jul 2013 1 Comment
in Family Tags: born alone, grave, gravity, grief, grievous, health, medicine, mental-health, shawl, shelter, silken weaves, soul, spirituality, stroke, tongue twisters, warm, weight, woven
The Vibrant Channeled Creator 
Jul 13, 2013 @ 11:34:15
I lived this poem. Thanks. Maryann
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