For MCJ

The Swan

              Rilke 

This laboring of ours with all that remains undone,

as if still bound to it,

is like the lumbering gait of the swan.

And then our dying—releasing ourselves

from the very ground on which we stood—

is like the way he hesitantly lowers himself

into the water. It gently receives him,

and, gladly yielding, flows back beneath him,

as wave follows wave,

while he, now wholly serene and sure,

with regal composure,

allows himself to glide.

For MCJ who lost her mother on March 4.

Mary's email notifying us of her mother's passing  echoes the sentiment of this poem by Ranier Maria Rilke, a German poet (1875-1926). His poetry is incredibly beautiful and I will be posting many of his poems in the future. For today, I hope Mary finds Rilke's image in The Swan to be comforting.

John O'Donohue wrote the following poem. Along with Rilke, I find him to be one of the most sensitive and inspirational poets I have yet encountered. May this too offer some consolation to Mary and anyone else who is experiencing grief.

For Grief

                John O’Donohue

When you lose someone you love,

Your life becomes strange,

The ground beneath you gets fragile,

Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;

And some dead echo drags your voice down

Where words have no confidence.

Your heart has grown heavy with loss;

And though this loss has wounded others too,

No one knows what has been taken from you

When the silence of absence deepens.

Flickers of guilt kindle regret

For all that was left unsaid or undone.

There are days when you wake up happy;

Again inside the fullness of life,

Until the moment breaks

And you are thrown back

Onto the black tide of loss.

Days when you have your heart back,

You are able to function well

Until in the middle of work or encounter,

Suddenly with no warning,

You are ambushed by grief.

It becomes hard to trust yourself.

All you can depend on now is that

Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.

More than you, it knows it way

And will find the right time

To pull and pull the rope of grief

Until that coiled hill of tears

Has reduced to its last drop.

Gradually, you will learn acquaintance

With the invisible form of your departed;

And when the work of grief is done,

The wound of loss will heal

And you will have learned

To wean your eyes

From the gap in the air

And be able to enter the hearth

In your soul where your loved one

Has awaited your return

All the time.

"For Grief " by John O’Donohue, from To Bless the Space Between Us.

© Doubleday, 2008.