photoart: sharon auberle
THE ART
OF GRIEVING
by
Linda Back McKay
By
now you have had a lot of practice. No art or science is perfect and that is
why the art of grieving is practiced by all. This class is mandatory for
matriculation into the next life, which may or may not contain grieving. Either
way, you take your chances. When presented with the chance to choose nothing
else, drop to your knees and lower yourself to the floor. Prostrate, let the
tongues of anger and cooling sorrow wash over you in morning sunlight. After
you are tired of being on the floor, pick yourself up again. Wash your hands in
the bathroom sink with a strong soap that foams, you will notice, like malted
milk. Above all, do not think about grieving or it will take hold of your
thought and squeeze harder than you can bear. Take to clouds instead. Clouds
like these, that swim above the aqua sea, skirting daytime and night time,
content with their chameleon lives, neither coming nor going. Take yourself on
a little journey to someplace small because big is impossible right now. Save
big for when you are stronger. In your small place, watch for the smallest of
things – a thimble, a fluff of dust wafting across the desk. The old quill pen
that you can now imagine scratching a message to home, please await my
return. Your humble servant,
~
first published in The Wind Blows, The
Ice Breaks (Nodin Press)
