Jasper National Park was my sanctuary….the memory was captured in this photo…by mhf,
Both of my parents loved the autumn. They died within 60 days of each other. I had not dealt with the grief. I needed to go to the mountains. I needed a rock in my pocket. Here are the ramblings and tumblings of words in grief as I journeyed to find that rock. Not knowing I would return to this place of grief and growth often, and especially in the autumn.
I watched the sky.
I wondered ‘why?’
I watched my pain
Formed into rain.
It renewed the earth as it fell.
The earth sprung up
Into the mountainous skies.
The beauty of the mountains acted as shards to Soul.
I caressed the shards with my eyes; wanting them to cut deep.
Cut away the dross.
Cut away the loss.
The peaks were covered with misty fog.
The peaks were covered in rain.
The peaks were breathing in…
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