Guest Poet: Claribel Alegría

This is a translation of Alegría's poem, the original written in Spanish. 

Clara Isabel Alegría Vides (born May 12, 1924) is a Nicaraguan poet, essayist, novelist, and journalist who is a major voice in the literature of contemporary Central America. She writes under the pseudonym Claribel Alegría. She was awarded the 2006 Neustadt International Prize for Literature.

Searching For You

I went out searching for you

crossing valleys 

and mountains

ploughing distant seas

asking of the clouds

and the wind of your whereabouts

it was all useless

useless

you were within me

Grieve

Hope___by_moroka323

Grief. We all experience it at various points during our lives. It does not fit neatly into a box that we can take out, turn the contents over in our hands, experience it, then replace it and snugly close the lid, shelving it. It does not fit well into a file folder. It cannot be relegated to "G." It refuses to remain pigeon-holed.

When we mistakenly push it away, it rebounds and can threaten to swallow us whole. I'm afraid grief is something best to invite onto your lap and allow to howl in your ear until its anguish is exhausted.

Whether your loss is death, divorce, a way of life, job, an empty nest, health -- there are endless forms of loss -- your loss is real and so is your grief. Grief is natural. It is not a 'weakness' or a character flaw. You will not be stronger for having ignored it. Grieving is a process. You move through it. There is no shortcut, but you can certainly prolong it by refusing to work through it.

Find a way to grieve. Educate yourself. Here is one source that has helped me this past year. Maybe its support can help you, too.  And as always, I ♥ you. ~~GH

[Tomorrow: Transformation]

Bonus Post: Sandy Hook Massacre/Schoolchildren Stabbed in China

What Friday's tragic events have done more than anything as far as "we" are concerned is hold a mirror up and force us to examine ourselves and our world in a new light. 

Some of you have never considered the possibility of losing your children; for you, this raises issues of fear and potential loss, rage and helplessness. 

Others struggle to make sense of something senseless, and attempt to seat blame (as if seating blame will make it somehow better). In the meantime, many of those same people point fingers and blame one another, sparking more discord and disharmony.

Meanwhile, Mother grieves for all Her children across the world, not just the ones who resemble her most closely, not just for the ones whose faces are broadcast, not just for the ones who are "innocent." 

We all are innocent. Or at least, we all started off that way. I grieve for each and every one of us.

These issues are about more than mental health, more than gun control or knife control, more than safety. These issues go to the root of society's ills, to the failure of Man to connect deeply with one another. Please, in your grief and fear and anger, do not alienate one another. Now is the time to reach out and hold each other.

There will be time for examination and autopsy later. Now is the time to console your brothers and sisters. I love you, all of you. And I'm sorry.~~GH

Bonus Post: Guest Poet Robert Augustus Masters

For full effect, listen to video beginning at 1:40 for this post. I apologize; this is not my favorite version of this tune but it the only version I could find that plays on all platforms. 

 Poetry should not be so much read as imbibed, perhaps after releasing its juices with an unapologetically deep bite or two. No bibs. No napkined abyss. Sit as though you are at a feast, even if the fare is spare, knowing that the tiniest morsel can make the biggest difference.

                                ~~Robert Augustus Masters

For my special friend on this momentous day; you know who you are. I hope you understand.

In grief, the heart is broken in the same way that a stream rushing down through a mountainside forest is broken — it’s still cohesive spiritually, still unified in essence, its elemental dying only strengthening and affirming its fundamental aliveness, its rough-and-tumble course only furthering its dynamic yet utterly vulnerable surrender. 

                                         ~~Robert Augustus Masters

Let the unknown dissolve in a deeper unknown
See more than what is shown
The undoing that we fear is already here
The Mystery of mysteries closer than near
Beyond all familiarity we eventually must go
This we fight and this we know
                     ~~Robert Augustus Masters

Easter Eve

I used to love Easter. From the concept of eternal freedom and life to redemption and forgiveness of sins to endless Love, from minutely detailed painted eggs to dyed chicks and bunnies (like they used to do to baby animals when I was a girl), from chocolate and malted milk birds eggs to peeps and yes, even jelly beans which I never really liked because they made my teeth hurt -- I loved Easter. But in 1998, on this day, Easter Eve, I lost my last child David Oso at 21 weeks of pregnancy. I too nearly died, almost bled to death. I never got to see his face or hold him, to nurse him, to change him, to watch him play, hear him laugh, smell his hair.

The following year, chemotherapy and consequences from cancer treatments removed any possibility of my bearing another child.

And for those reasons and so many, many more, today I cry. Forgive me if I can't get into Easter celebrations. I am thankful He and he are risen. But the mother in me selfishly mourns and refuses to rejoice.~~GHC