Grief Is Like a River
by Cynthia G. Kelly
My grief is like a river,
I have to let it flow,
But I myself determine
just where the banks will go.
Some days the current takes me
in waves of guilt and pain,
But there are always quiet pools
where I can rest again.
I crash on rocks of anger--
My faith seems faint indeed,
But there are other swimmers
Who know that what I need
Are loving hands to hold me
When the waters are too swift,
And someone kind to listen
When I just seem to drift.
Grief's river is a process
Of relinquishing the past
By swimming in Hope's channels
I'll reach the shore at last.
