Unalloyed and artesian,
grief wells from depths
I didn’t know I had.
I feel it rise
and then on my surface,
it mixes with simple joys,
with walking on earth
hearing the dawn chorus,
seeing spring blossom all around.

Today sorrow is so braided.
Wonders and puzzlements.
Can releasing and releasing and releasing
also generate?
Can sadness spill and make
a pure pool of cleansing,
of absolution?
And why can’t grief
leave my poems alone.

©Susa Silvermarie 2023

2 Responses to “Artesian

  • Susan larson
    2 months ago

    Grief spawns poetry too. I like Kalhil Gibran piece from The Prophet, something to the effect that grief and joy come from the same source and that one cannot have great joy without great grief.

  • Barb Ester
    2 months ago

    Oh my dear… I can relate… I had a grief day today…