On Grief Time

Thanks for reading crumbs from His table fellowship! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.Grief’s clocks warp, melt,Bend, Dali-esque,Stretching, shrinking,Fast slow,Hurry crawl,Rush drag,Uncertain and disorienting,Blurring, greying calendar lines.Is it already—Is it only—The ungrieved world aroundCreeps in its steady paceFrom day to day.I am flotsam, adrift,Sometimes racing along white water,Then sticking fast, heartLodged against a rockOf yearning orTree root of memory,Waiting for time to resumeIts ordered rhythm.Grief’s clocks tick imperfectly,Chime unpredictably,Time-hopping between memory and reality,Begging gentle care and patienceUntil the Master WatchmakerResets and restoresClocks and time itselfIn everlasting Day.Thanks for reading crumbs from His table fellowship! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit crumbsfromhistable.substack.com