poem by Elizabeth Gries: November Grace
Elizabeth Gries wrote a beautiful poem that speaks my feeling so well I asked for permission to repost it here, which she graciously gave. Thank you, Elizabeth. This is stunning, wrenching, wonderful and true.
November Grace
Counting down to that dreaded November night again.
Every year, the same routine
Steeling myself to face another anniversary of her death
My mother, Grace, took her life from me when I was 12
Sudden, violent death isn’t something you get over; just learn to live with.
Ugly and raw, that word… that dirty deed, that hidden, shameful secret in the trash, Suicide…And now, another Grace departs on the witching hour of a cold, nocturnal November
Our very own TemPeSt Grace Gale…Naively I fell asleep, trusting the world would still be as I’d left it in the morning.
Stolen from us while we dreamt
Our TemPeSt Gale, blown over
Our TemPeSt Gale, blown awayFrom somewhere
I hear a voice, screaming,
Hemming me in,
The world’s spinning
Tilt-a-Whirl, reeling
Pinning my ear to the ground
And it’s my voice I meet there
My voiceIn minds eye, I see you
Ever tumbling from blue and white poetry-on-wheels
Your latest tribe of minstrels in tow
Laughing and fearless,
Furiously embracing every passion.
~We thought you were invincible~
That each morning, you’d arise with the sun, greeting us with crooked smile…
But all is still and quiet now
Utter, harrowed, gutted silence.
No goodbyes, no goodbyes…That night…
A spark
Struck from our collective hearts
Sent ablaze ‘cross gloaming sky
As useless hands reach out
And fruitless mouths, beckon
To kindle your name, on whispered breath
Eyes tracking, full of rain…
Desperate eyes, blind with rain
Straining to hold you,
Just one… moment… longer…
Until abruptly,
The Veil parts,
Ushering in a strange, unearthly calm
And our TemPest Nightbird
Disappears amongst the stars…- Elizabeth Gries
