Grief is For The Living
This poem, by Bill Berkowitz, describes grief as a part of life.
It can't be scheduled and shows up anywhere and at any time.
We don’t have a magic wand to take it away, nor a crystal ball to see it approaching.
“Grief is for the living"
Grief is not predictable. It has its own timetable.
It comes when it chooses.
Grief will dance with you, and hum old songs in your ears.
Grief may punch you in the gut while walking down the street.
Grief tapdances along to cable news broadcasts.
Grief makes you tear off your I Voted sticker.
Grief has you worrying about your children and grandchildren.
Grief rides BART, takes the bus, squeezes in next to you in a taxi; will hitchhike to the airport if it has to.
Grief is not predictable. It has its own timetable.
It comes when it chooses.
But grief will let you know you are alive.
Grief will force you to make decisions.
Like a meandering snake, grief strikes and slithers away.
You can’t pretend it doesn't exist.
There is little you can do to stop it.
Grief takes on unexpected forms.
Grief is not predictable.
It has its own timetable.
Grief is not always about death.
It will come visit on the most hectic of days, the most silent of nights.
Grief let's you know you are alive.
Grief is for the living.
Grief doesn’t get the final word.
Be gentle with yourself and others.