what I know about grief [meditations #2]

I have grieved before
threaded it through my life
a blunt needle
that is pulled through
slowly slowly
so I know
that this is
a grief beyond any
most will have known;
for a way of life
uncertainty
fear
a world that has changed
and will emerge scarred,
for there will be a before
and an after.
I know too that grief
grows and swells like a balloon
before deflating unexpectedly
and shrinking lodged
against my ribcage
forever beating there
the tick-tock
of a clock
that will not be silenced.

morning meditation [meditations #1]

alone. The world
feels like a secret
private place
just me
and the thud of feet
on deserted roads
stumbling over uneven
paths, watching
as the sun
appears rising
over the hills
and abandoned clay pits.
I run through farms
still asleep
the cows in the field
tending their young
and think how lucky
I am to be alive.