Through the fog

The wind carried the sound

 of my weeping,

scattered dandelions floating

away.

My grief broke me open,

brought me to my knees.

My thoughts,

 waves of despair

and sorrow.

I was told that I should numb 

my pain with pills,

with wine,

with life.

I refused

I soaked it in,

I drowned.

 The grief 

let my heart bleed,

the blade deep and sharp.

 My thoughts consumed me,

I surrendered

 to my anguish. 

Every morning the sun rose

and I learned to walk through 

the sorrow unhinged,

undone.

I slept on a bed of thorns,

the darkness draping me.

I walked the path,

on shattered glass.

Moments, 

hours,

days,

months.

One day the sun rose,

my burden felt lighter.

I chose to rise from the ashes

and find glory in the morning light,

in the love in my life,

in remembering that you

would want me to live and

breathe again. 

I chose to live

among the glory that 

is in a new day,

the only day that's promised.

Marina at dVerse is having us write about the things that make our world shatter, what it needs and what we do to make it whole again. I wrote about losing my parents.