Grown Accustomed

Its what we always do
with a thing we love.
Get dependent on it.
Then we’re terrified when
its not around anymore.
This could be an it, like an
ancient magnolia tree or
the house we grew up in.
But usually the thing is a her
or him, like the grandmother
who one morning never
woke up or the dear friend
who got lost in the years and
simply couldn’t find home.
 
Our grief is justified in God’s
eyes. It shows we’re truly
in the world and not just on it,
evidence we give a damn.
 
Some days poems like this help.
And some days they don’t.
 
 
 

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9 Comments

  1. Julie Cantrell on February 27, 2014 at 1:42 pm

    might be my favorite one so far.

  2. Juliea on February 27, 2014 at 1:51 pm

    Writing for the soul. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t-how very true it is.

  3. Carol on February 27, 2014 at 1:54 pm

    How very true, and close to home right now.

  4. Andrew Budek-Schmeisser on February 27, 2014 at 2:01 pm

    How very true.

    For years I tried to run from this experience, and was pretty successful. Successful enough never to feel loss, or happiness, or love.

    Unlearning that took a long time, and the cure hurt worse than the disease.

    Great poem. It’s a keeper.

  5. Brandee on February 27, 2014 at 2:18 pm

    I love the challenge in these words to wake up and pay attention to the people I take for granted. Reminds me of this quote by Tony Hoagland: “We would give anything for what we have.”

  6. Annie B on February 27, 2014 at 10:45 pm

    Yes. The two friends who got “lost” after…whatever changed in their hearts. Today, the poem helped. Thank you.

  7. jessieheninger on February 27, 2014 at 11:12 pm

    Pain, proof that we’re alive.

  8. pastordt on February 28, 2014 at 11:26 pm

    Thank you.

  9. Carol Hiestand on April 23, 2014 at 3:44 am

    In the world not just on it. A reminder….. I like this.

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