Some treat grief like a long lost relative
who has passed to the other side—
build a shrine, light candles, whisper prayers
grief settles in, takes up entire rooms.

Some fold it tightly, carry it in a pocket
pull it out to examine—
press to a cheek, roll between fingers
a well-worn stone brushed with worry.

I say, take grief for a walk, hold its hand, learn from it
stitch it together with joy, love, wonder—
make a kite, send it flying above the ragged edges of your life
dipping, soaring—even during times of bursting sadness.

Jessica Ada Wylde writes from within landscapes, heartscapes, and the wilds of nature. Currently, she is completing a poetry manuscript centered on the journey with grief and the wondrous human ability to hold grief in one hand and joy in the other. Jessica currently resides in Onalaska/Brice Prairie, WI.