I see you

My sweet Lily Bean January 20 2012

A poem for Lily

I look around and your all I see
Your face in the clouds
Your fingers and hands
Like branches,leaves in the trees
The sunset, so beautiful reminds me of you
The pink of a sunrise
Your lovely soft cheeks
Waves crash to shore
As a smiles alights your face
My thoughts of you surround me
The beauty of nature belongs to you my sweet lily flower.

 

Written May 22 2012

By Sheri Hall,  for her daughter Lilly Hall who died 2.5 months earlier.

 

Capture your Grief 2018 : SUNSET

Day 31; Sunset

I took and wrote this back in 2012 during the epitimal raw first year of my grief for the death of my third born child, my first daughter. Lily Hall. Dec 30 2011- Feb 18 2012

I have edited the poem below to how I feel I prefer the end.

Sunset is the last of the days in the Capture your Grief Writing challenge, it makes sense, a sunset, the day is saying goodnight to world through the reflection of the sky.

Good night.

Thanks for sharing this journey with me.

Sheri

 

 

SUNSET

In awe of the sunset that reflects off the water

In sadness of the heart that reflects of you

In love with the beauty of you

Sheri Hall

Capture your Grief Poetry final 5

Express

Your broken heart in a picture; words on a card

Thoughts on a page; heart on your sleeve

Tears on you pillow;  wind in your hair

Expression is always there

Wisdom

From experience it grows inside

For us to find when we lie

Down to reflect of past wins or losses

Wisdom comes from within

Welcome what it has taught us

Some find it hard to see but we need to feel inside

for it to reach us; not to hide

Reflect

The stranger in the window; you have forgotten who it is

Think back to a time when it looked familiar

Who is that face staring back at you

Time changes the reflection of ourselves

The passing of time cause us to reflect

As we reflect on the reflection in the window

Intention

What is the intention; we often ask

Is it pure, honest, real

Do we trust or question ones intention

Research, calculate its truth

To whom does the best intention help

You or me

Or no one

Our intentions can be misinterpreted, misread or misunderstood

Is it why we keep our deepest intentions private?

Sunset

Peace, color, thought

Night, leaving, end

Dark, moon, rise

Red, orange, yellow turn to black

Happy to sad; here to gone

Quiet

Goodbye sun

Thank you for Reading,

Namaste. Sheri

I Grieve

Four

A poem for my angel on her 4th birthday

Bag of Grief

When tragedy strikes and grief ensues, your are very gently tossed into a black hole to which you curl up and stay, feeling like you never will, nor want to leave. One day many months later you see grey and as you look up the black is thinning, there may even be moments of light in your dark, they don’t last long but they begin to come in like fireflies. Years go by and you realize you are outside that hole you are not sure how it happened, some days you wish you could go back under that comforting blanket of sorrow but realize you have to learn, to grow, as well as, continue to grieve, but now you grieve differently. You now carry a bag of grief with you, everywhere. Sometimes it falls on the ground shocking you when the contents spill out, other times you hold it firmly closed. Very few people do you open it for.

Grief now takes other forms. You grieve the 2 year old that cries in a shopping cart because her mother is ignoring her, you grieve the 3 year old that laughs as her mom pushes her on the swing, you grieve every holiday that passes, every birthday, every new season, you grieve a name, a moment never had or never forgotten. Every memory turns into- before and after your loss.           You learn to live with that bag. There is no choice.

 Please share with me. Whats in your bag?