When feeling grief at it strongest, you think you’ll die. But you don’t. The mornings and nights keep coming. You find yourself distracted by that, the way life goes on. A crocus appears in the winter ground. A week later, a carpet of daffodils bloom where there was only winter-nipped grass. Tulip magnolias open on leafless trees. Camellias drop at your feet. You exhale. Your breath joins a billion others, giving life to earth, and the earth breathes back oxygen, and you live, you live, you live. You lower your shoulders, the grief somehow transformed into a scar, tough and visible, like so many you carry, like skin, like life. Flexible now, you remember to exhale, as you move into the new day.
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9 thoughts on “She Exhales”
Thanks so much
Thank you for this. The images. The truth. I need to share this with a friend.
Thanks and thanks for sharing it.
Lovely, Joy! It’s so nice that you share your art and word work.
Beautiful art. Beautiful words, like always.
Joy, I absolutely love this! Beautiful – your heart just radiates from your work.
Thank you for your kind words. It’s always gratifying to know my work touches others.