this morn

getting up in the morning
its a grey day what can I say
no surprise there
but it was the feel of a certain weight
and I can’t see the sun but life goes on
and I am getting
my mind ready for the
several business appointments I have
today at the office
but I strap on my boots
and the weight feels larger
and the I am grabbing my officework
and putting on my coat
I know that a huge feeling is whispering in the wings
I see a Christmas tree
all covered in white
and portrayed by a fish and a dog underneath
and there are blowing flakes
crouching up and around my feet
I shiver smiling as my door opens
and the news of the world
speaks from the shudder of a pine
and I am so not ready
but I don’t realize it
because I receive a message
about a priest by my mother’s bedside
and at that exact moment
my car decides not to start
and the soldiers, like my father, who are no longer here
all crashing in my mind
like I have not even been able to breathe before
and this convergence
tears down my walls
and I rest my head against the steering wheel
but I do not
acknowledge anything
except the hurt and pain and loss
I have been suffocating down
under shield of pretending to be strong
but this day, this time
I will let it all arrive
because even the boundless strength I have
will show the cracks in the ice
as I cannot refuse this,
an ache and grief I accept,
a gift all my own…

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
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