New Release! Journey into Grief

It’s here! Available as an ebook right now, the paperback is coming soon.

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In time, we all become men of sorrow, women of sorrow, people of sorrow. John Claypool echoed this truth in the preface to his book Tracks of a Fellow Struggler, and it is a bitter truth indeed.

In the passing of youth, the loss of love or health, the flight of safety, the death of our beloved—sorrow comes.

This collection of photos, poetry, and memoir presents the words and works with which I expressed my own painful sadness, my rage, and my sense of profound loss when my mother died. I share my experiences in memory of her and in the hope that by joining the company of others who mourn on the printed page, I will find for myself and offer to you some small degree of solace.

“. . . this work is inspired! The poetry is beautiful, and coupled with the images, it is wrenchingly emotional . . . Anyone who has lost a mother or a father with whom they shared a special bond, anyone dealing with a devastating loss, will be blessed and comforted by Journey into Grief.” —John Earle

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For excerpts from the book, see:
Mists from the Deep
Cold Rage
Blessed Radiance
Futile Seeking
Risen

 

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Mists from the Deeps

     In the night, in the darkness, in the loneliest watch
           heart freezes
           soul cries out
           being shudders

     No answers on offer

     And yet . . . from despair, if I answer yes
           to loss
           to fear
           to death
     Yield assent without limit
     Assent, because all other answers lie barren

     Like earliest dawn, which seeps into the night sky so subtly
           my heart lightens
           a sense of possibility mists from the deeps
           some answer, unspoken, arrives

     Fragile and delicate, surrender to it, do not reach
           this succor may be accepted
           never taken
           new life in the bud

This poem and the accompanying photo appear in my new upcoming release, Journey into Grief.

For more excerpts from the book, see:
Cold Rage
Blessed Radiance
Futile Seeking
Risen

 

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Daylight Shines

           The sky is so blue and friendly
           almost as though it is her smile
           or maybe her laugh
           or both

           I have no sense of its infinite possibility
           ceding to the blackness of outer space
           going on and on past the moon
           past Mars

           No, this sky is immediate, personal
           happy like a baby blanket
           comforting like Mother
           and mine

           I am shielded, illuminated, protected
           under its canopy of brightness
           so long as daylight shines
           safe

This poem and the accompanying photo appear in my new upcoming release, Journey into Grief.

For more excerpts from the book, see:
Missing Her
No Beauty
Exiled
Despair

 

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