Rose Sinclair

What is it to grieve?

What does it Feel like?

The air of me gasps

The earth of me trembles

The fire of me pushes my blood

The water of me falls in a torrent

They ask it of me, these elements of creation

This full presence

This authenticity of self which includes them

This fullness of humanness not limited to the edges of my skin

When the sunflowers bow their heads to the rain

When the trees crack and break and fall in the wind

When the volcano erupts and the lightning strikes and the grasslands burn

When the rocks tumble and break to become new beings

My fullness of life is not limited to the edges of my skin

The earth holds it all, holds me all

Holds all of me

Gasping, trembling, pushing, falling

And rising again.