A Storm | The Grief Toolbox

A storm wakes me

My living room filled with flashing light

I turn my head

I see red

I want to run

to the ocean or the mountains

Somewhere I can catch a sunrise

in peace

A storm like drums

A storm full of sadness

A storm in the dark of night

I smell the air and remember

a fall evening by the bonfire

My eyes see an oak tree and remember

leaf piles and jumping free

So much to remember

The storm remains

I wish it would fly

Fly away with an eagle

but yet the storm remains.

About the Author

Kari is a writer, musician, teacher, wife and mother of her three year old son and three month old daughter. Her father and grandfather passed away within five months of each other a few years ago, both from glioblastoma brain cancer. And more recently she lost her mother-in-law to mesothelioma lung cancer. She finds solace in her faith, family and friends, and her writing. She also blogs at smallpiecesofjoy.wordpress.com.

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