Colors of Our Heart

            

I found the heart-shaped, gray stone on the beach in Washington State. How did the vast waters of the Pacific Ocean carve a rock into a heart? And why? 

 

            The heart is an important image for the grief community because it speaks of the emotional connections we had with our loved one. We miss their presence, touch, and feeling their heartbeat when we held them close. So we notice the shape of hearts everywhere—in leaves, the pattern of rust on the head of a bolt, but especially when they appear in the clouds because those seem like a message to us from the Beyond.

 

Can we live so that all the colors of our heart are seen?

 

Leavings

 

            Few of us look forward to change. We like routine and comfort. Yet over the course of our life, we will leave many places and people, and they will leave us. The reasons will be varied—new jobs, marriage, wanderlust, and sometimes what drew us together was one mutual interest, and when that had run its course, we drifted apart. Sometimes we simply sense that there is more waiting for us.

In Darkness My Heart Breathes

I hurry through the warmth of the day to reach the night’s cool solace. In the exhalation of the tired sun over the earth’s dusty horizon, as gray shadows deepen into the long evening hours, as bright stars and planets appear in the clarity of the cobalt night air, I let go of all the chores that did not get done.

My Heart Is a Wooden Room

My heart is wooden room, an empty octagon with cushions on an oak floor. The room is nestled in the earth and rises from it. The room is rooted in the earth that is rooted to the ocean in front and the mountain behind. It is organic and breathes. Love lives in this room in the midst of sorrow.

Sharing of Hearts

                         (rock found on the beach at Whidbey Island)

“Shared language is a morning prayer.” Enid Dame

In the stillness before dawn,

when the colors of the day begin

to coalesce in the woods,

I sip coffee and wait for Jo Anne

to come down to get her tea,

smile, and talk about how we slept.

* If you would like to read the rest of this post, let me know and I’ll send it to you. *

Different Heart

Because of grief,

I see the world through different eyes,

and love with a different heart.

Mark Liebenow