#TranscendingGrief
the orator of beauty and glam
the oracle of child birth
the origin from which my life takes
it's source for my achievements
and essence to breaths and thrives.

my mother's grave,
whence visiting hours are not restricted
yet limited
my mother's grave
whence conservations are written
in the bold letters of silence

my mother's grave
whence discussions held before bring tears
T'was at my mother's grave that the dance of grief
rocks me back and forth with
the nostalgic music of my inside pain
cause tears to roll down my eyes.

my mother's grave
whence letting go of life seems easy yet
to journey to the great beyond holds no
particular pleasure.
at my mother's grave
whence flowers are brought to be recieved
by echo of the words of our grieving hearts.


dust to dust
ashes to ashes
earth to earth....
it is a wonder how the moments
we walk away, we fail to reflect,
that the reason we live is why we die.

so even as we remember our dead,
as we mourn and grief and move on
we must mourn for our own selves
somberly reflecting on our great beyond.

© RUBEE