Dear Queen, I see you in your garden there In your yard, in the back. Tucked. and hidden. Where the chickens roam free And the dirt brings you close To the grief in your eyes. Broken and bruised. Battered and beat.
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All articles filed in Grief
The Maturing of the Queen
The queen’s calling is to hold the weight of the present as it begs us for a way forward as we navigate life in our beautifully broken world. I write and talk a lot about the archetype of the queen and have come to see her as a part of all of us that is…
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To My Love
To my Love during this holiday season, You look down at your belly and place your hand gently on the slight natural curve. You wonder, What happened? What did I do? Why is there no baby inside? You breathe a deep sigh, which leads to a release of salty water welling up in your eyes,…
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Long Way Home
T’is a mother in my life who feels all alone waiting for something completely unknown
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Coastal Trails
My heart races as I descend the stones thrown recklessly at the edges of the earth. These coastal boulders are mighty as they break the waves, which threaten to wash away the trees and green shrubs, homes of bears and cougars. Whoever tossed them aside was very angry.
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The Inner Landscape
Since our retirement seven years ago, my husband Jim and I have explored much of the United States. We have lived out of our RV for six months a year, traveling between points A and B. With each back-and-forth trek across the country, our realization grew of how much more there was to see. There…
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Healing on the Beach
There were stones along the beach as far as I could see. They stretched out into the water a little way—so many stones to be searched through and discovered. I walked through the cold water, head down, searching. I spotted something, bent down, reached through the water, and picked it up. Suddenly, I was no…
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The Finish Line
Athletes are often encouraged to visualize the finish line and to run the race with the image of crossing that mark as motivation to finish well. For us, the finish line is not death but what comes as a simple greeting: “Welcome, my good and faithful servant.”
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Hope Is Not a Lost Cause
I started to lose you on Christmas Day. Never have I experienced such agony as my worst fear unfolded into reality. I didn’t understand what miscarriage could be—the intensity of the physical process; bodily desperation as my reaching arms tried to hold on, tried to save my child who is already gone; the depth of…
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Turning Toward Hope
I’m standing in front of my closet, swapping heavy, dark winter wear for the brighter, lighter garments of spring. When the annual exchange is complete, I begin to look through a neighboring rack of dresses, nearly untouched during the last year spent largely at home. I pass by one, two, three black dresses before I…
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