Grief Poetry

He Who Rescues Me

Written by Jennifer Alvey

Where are You, Oh Lord? Why have You hidden Your Face From me? Why can’t I feel You near? Have You forsaken me, To wallow in my pain? Oh, how my heart suffers! How my heart is breaking! How I need You near! How I need to see Your face, Oh Lord! Protect me, From the storms that surround me! Pour Your sweet Grace onto my soul! For Your Grace, Oh Lord,  Is like a sweet salve, that heals a broken heart! Have mercy upon me, Oh Lord, For the wind thrashes all around me! Calm the storms That surround me! For the waves of the sea roll around me As if they were about to devour My soul! My heart is breaking, Oh Lord. I need you near. I feel as if I am sinking into the deepest sea. I cry out: “Jesus save me! For I am drowning in my sorrow!” I hear Your voice, Oh Lord! “Give me your hand, my Child,” You say. I open my eyes and reach out to You! You give me your hand, And rescue me from the depths of the Sea’s of Sorrow. You hold me tightly and encircle me about with the arms of Your Love. You wipe away my tears, As you say: “It’s alright my Child. I am here. I will not leave you. I will not forsake you. But I will always be near you. For you see, my Child, My Father gave you to Me. I live in your heart, dear one. You belong to me. No one can ever snatch you Away from me. I will heal your broken heart, dear one. I am always here. Just Come, my Child, and lean on me, For I will give you rest.” Copyright © 2001 by Jennifer Alvey. All rights reserved.

Grieving In Peace

Written by Diane Payne

I prefer to grieve on the floor beneath a table or outside stretched upon the ground. But, well-intentioned friends come with pleas for me to see a counselor and eat dinner at their homes. Begging I do something, anything, not understanding I am tired and need to be inactive. I want to sink beneath the tables, lie in the dirt, drink until morning, and grieve until the loss evolves slowly into a timid strength. Alcohol that is not usually kept in the house because I will impulsively drink every drop, now whispers greetings for me to enter those dangerous zones of long lost spirits. And friends will call and display horror, disgust when asking, “Have you been drinking?” Powerless, they sigh, “Oh no.” Never understanding how that despair and wine are so painfully short-lived, nor how comforting it is to let my tears fall while driving along that hard paved road. About the author: Diane lives in rural Arkansas with her nine-year-old daughter and two dogs. She teaches writing at the University of Arkansas-Monticello. Diane has a memoir coming out from Red Hen Press. E-mail: diane@seark.net Copyright © 2001 by Diane Payne. All rights reserved. Joyful Sorrow  Written by Olufisayo Gali    those that used to bring us joy are now the source of our sorrow those that used to make us laugh now dare to bring tears to our eyes those that couldn’t wait to see us now refuse us into their presence is death such a controller of minds that it would turn us so that those who once were our angels become those that would torment us it takes the soul but it is not enough so it brings us sorrow as well but never shall it kill our beloved memories those shall live inside us  till the end of eternity they become our comforters Copyright © 2001 by Olufisayo Gali. All rights reserved.