G is for Grief Poetry by Alan Anderson

 

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted

    and saves those who are crushed in spirit.—Psalm 34:18 NIV

 

“Record my misery; list my tears on your scroll — are they not in your record?”—Psalm 56: 8

 

“Grief is the price we pay for love”—Queen Elizabeth

A Poetic Thought to Begin.

 

Land of Memories

 

A cemetery is a land of memories.

When we visit the grave of a loved one,

Memories hold us tight.

Waves of grief may wash over us,

Crash against our thoughts.

We ride these waves,

Still walk with God.

Our grief does not take the Almighty by surprise.

 

 Grief Poetry

For reasons, perhaps only known to God, throughout my adult years, I have been drawn to support people who grieve. For years I have come alongside people who were impacted by experiences which have left them with lifelong grief. No, we do not get over our grief. Perhaps we may adapt to it, but we never get over it.

 

Since I “retired” in 2017, God laid it on my heart to write about grief. This focus turned in time toward what people term “grief poetry.” This has not been easy, but I must say, I love to write on the theme of grief.

 

 

Grief Always Has A Place to Go

 

You might have read the view on grief with the following perspective.

 

“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give – but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”  ~  Jamie Anderson

https://integratedwellbeinginstitute.com/is-grief-really-love-with-no-place-to-go/

 

 

Please allow me to say with all humbleness and respect, as a writer who is also a Christian, I do not follow this perspective. Grief always has a place to go. Permit me to express this in a poem I wrote after reflection on grief.

 

Grief Always Has A Place To Go

By Alan Anderson

January 12, 2021

 

Grief always has a place to go

 

This love ache,

Brittle, crushing,

Hidden by a clouded heart,

Human, yet broken.

 

Flowers planted by a gravestone,

A memorial of one still loved.

Tears of mourners,

Gathered to embrace fond memories.

      

Grief, love upside down,

Filled with longing of how life once was,

Now to wander alone,

Through a tunnel of dark unknown.

 

Grief always has a place to go but,

At least for a time,

We may not like where it leads,

Those parts deep within our being,

Parts we fear to embrace.

      

Grief is never vagabond,

On the move, to find a home,

For it has never left us,

Never been absent.

 

This winter of life,

May sting like sharp icicles,

Yet, spring holds a place for us,

A warm nuzzle,

Until the agony subsides.

 

 

Our tears are not wasted,

Kept in a bottle by God to be remembered.

Grief as love finds comfort in God,

He accepts our scars as part of us,

He is with us at every turn,

Grief always has a place to go.

 

 Give Rest to the Children

A few years ago, I heard a statement from an older pastor, and I remember it to this day. He said, “If we love deep, we must also be ready to grieve deep.” Perhaps simple yet profound counsel for us all. We will grieve deep perhaps more than at anytime at the death of a child. I wrote the following poem in memory of my grandbabies in heaven.

 

Give Rest to the Children

By Alan Anderson, July 5, 2021

(The poem is adapted from an Orthodox Christian funeral for a child.)

 

The sword of death has come,

my world has changed.

Sorrow steals every moment.

The sun has become cold,

evening is frozen darkness.

The death of my grandchildren…pierces my existence.

      

How shall I live, O God,

must I continue to breathe?

My tears drown me,

my sobs suffocate me,

life is still.

      

I will give my grief to God,

The Lord who loves all people,

He will not allow me to be ruined.

I can bear my stumbled steps,

begin to walk one foot before another.

I can face the day,

sleep in the night,

with peace.

 

Grant Your light to these children, O Blessed One,

for they have not sinned or spoiled creation.

Welcome them and give them rest,

where there is no sickness or sorrow or sighing.

They are but little ones,

have mercy on them, O God.

 

I remember the children with great love and playful memories,

for God has not forsaken me,

neither are the children lost.

For their memory is eternal,

in the mind of God.

With Him, I know my grandchildren live.

He opened the gates of heaven to them.

 

Give rest to the children, O Lord.

 

Ponder This

When we grieve, we also love. When tears pour from our eyes God collects them in a bottle. Dear, beloved ones, your grief always has a place to go.

 

Alan lives in Deroche, B.C. with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He contributed stories to Good Grief People by Angel Hope Publishing, 2017; Story by Story: The Power of a Writer, Unstoppable Writers Publishing, 2018; Easter Stories & More by InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship, 2021. He is currently working on a book expressing the grief of grieving grandparents entitled “Hidden Poetic Voices: A Reflective Work of Grief, Faith, and Poetry.” Alan periodically writes articles for FellowScript Magazine. He has written posts for our InScribe blog since 2015. Blog: https://scarredjoy.ca.