Looking at loss
How do I learn to look upon loss with the eyes of compassion? With tenderness?
When loss has felt like being thrashed and left broken on an endless road?
Fragments of memory, cut by explosions of rage from fabric crafted with love.
Love, a life raft and a drowning, a tiny tree standing defiant and resilient against an inferno.
Loss, incoherent, chaotic and unpredictable
Sew me back together and trim my ragged edges with blue satin so I can wrap myself in it and find some comfort from the cold. Something of beauty as a lifeline in the darkness.