To those who grieve

To Those Who Grieve the Death of a Poet

 

If you dream you are a star

More than a grain of dirt

Declare your poems to be

More than teaspoons of water

Dropped into a raving sea

You are more a fool

Than language has named you.

You worry death to death.

Your encrypted bones

Can, should you let them,

Lead you to bless the body

With the balm of love.

 

Recall. Spirit speaks

Echoes in the canyons of mind:

Struggle. Nothing has ended

Change. Struggle.  No peace arrived.

Struggle until the end. The end

Qualifies you with death

 To mourn and bury the dead.

 

Jerry W. Ward, Jr.                   January 16, 2014