Panacea

Grief has a way of showing up

When least expected.

One may be

In the middle of muddled thoughts,

In the middle of celestial imagination,

In the middle of frenzied activity,

In the middle of mundane packing

Or in the middle of old missives.

 

Grief raises its head

Unprovoked, uninvited,

It’s tentacles gripping,

Giving intense pain

And vivid longings.

 

Grief colors my thoughts

In my daily routines;

It enthralls my spirit

And I am a captive, helpless.

 

I seek relief

From entrapped feelings

Of what has gone before

And what will never happen.

 

I search for alleviation

In fantasy and romance

And found faux panacea!

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