The Grieving Stone

Obsidian is a glassy and sharp volcanic rock also called Apache Tears

I sit in a room bereft of light
in a darkness befit for mushrooms.
There is comfort a certain
silence born of blindness,

a time to think and wallow
when church bells are silent
and the clock wrings it hands,
for grief knows no schedule.

Devoid of light my memories
flash in more vivid detail
against a midnight screen
of loss and emptiness.

The black curtain I've wrapped
around myself swaddles me
tight, cutting off my breath
making me lightheaded.

Moonlight eventually puddles through
narrow windows in two parallel lines
beckoning me to follow it outside
where the stars await my homecoming,

so I follow, squinting at their faraway sparkle,
staid pinpricks of hope that hang in the sky
as crisp air gently slaps me awake.
I discover I still find comfort in the pitch of night.

I am not yet ready for life's brightness.
Mired in these dispiriting days of November
that fill my soul with a numbing elixir
paralyzing me to the possibilities that await

beyond the obsidian of Apache Tears
that I clutch in my hand until blood runs free
as I try to dispel my disharmonious energy
into the sharp soul of the grieving stone.

Reviews

[The Hampstead Poet]

This poem is full of emotion, and the words you chose are beautiful. I especially love the term "Apache Tear", as it itself entails a whole story of suffering along with the emotion created by your poem. Solitude is a blessing and a curse. It inspires, and it gives us time with our thoughts, time to grieve. I understand how painful being alone with one's thoughts is when one is grieving. The pain conjured by grief is enough to draw the figurative blood of emotions and memories, and make it run free. The numbness is pain itself. Thank you, for capturing it so beautifully. An awe-inspiring poem!

[icelandicblue]

Thank you so very much The Hampstead poet. I apologize for the very late response. I hadn't read this in a while but when I did today I could feel those feeling bubble to the surface...grief is like that.

[Einstein Noodle]

exquisite!
your working the obsidian is brilliant...

grieving takes its own time doesn't it? and strikes anywhere ... one can easily think they are going crazy with it's incessant clutching ...

i think of it like being rudely awakened, hit hard on the side of the head, spun around till dizzy and thrown into the yard being told ... now go to work ...
its heart breaking
E.

[icelandicblue]

That is exactly what it's like and I'm at work wishing I were in bed. Thanks Einstein!

[Einstein Noodle]

Dear Icey Blue... love and hugs ... and do be careful out there as you find your way home...
peace and joy
E.

[icelandicblue]

I will E. I will...thank you.

[Anand Sehgal]

darkness befit for mushrooms.

what an expression ! brilliant work !

[icelandicblue]

Thanks so much for reading and commenting.

[kublakhan27]

Not yet ready for life's brightness...it almost sounds like a criterion for being a poet. This may be favourite piece from your catalogue to date. It's so sympathetic to how I feel most of the time. I can't explain it, but I just seem to find more comfort in pitch darkness than in light. There are no night lights in my place because they would keep me awake persistently. My breath was taken away by every single personification and analogy you've put forth in this piece. You had the perfect image for every single thought in this one. A truly great piece my friend.

[icelandicblue]

Thanks so much. I am going to take a leap and say that you and I grieve in very similar manners and that is why our poetry speaks to one another. You are right, the brightness is too harsh because I have seen more than I ever wanted to see and I can't bear to see anymore. Thanks so much for your review and I am pleased that you truly seem to understand every nuance of the poem.

[kublakhan27]

You're most welcome, and I do think you're correct in that assessment :)

[Rachelle]

melancholia and angst :(

Who are the Apache and why are they associated with tears? Is there a story lost in written history?
I would relish some time alone. This is taken from an Filipino perspective where you long to find some solitude but can't because you are always surrounded by an entire clan of relatives and a neighborhood that knows your entire life story. They laugh with you, worry with you and cry with you. Life here is almost always a crowd.

[icelandicblue]

We live in a more transient society in the US. My family is scattered from the Boston to Florida to California. We are a big country and we move around a lot.I have lived in the same geographical area my entire life. Even with family and friends grief can be a solitary journey- each of us deal with it differently. Granted there are cultural differences and beliefs, it is good that you have so many to cushion your pain. If you would like to know more about Apache tears please read the comment made by Linda Marie Van Tassell she explains it beautifully. Thank you for commenting.

[Rachelle]

We're scattered all across the globe, too - China, Taiwan, U.K., U.S., Canada, Australia, Spain, Germany and the Netherlands. I guess it's a cultural thing. Somehow, there is an effort to keep the network intact such that you know that your second cousin in Chicago is expecting another child and has decided to quit her job to become a full-time mom or Great-uncle No. 3 in Hong Kong is undergoing dialysis. FB helps a lot, too!

[Jack...]

Anne, this sadness that play with our minds while we sit in the dark eventually passes, allowing us to accept the light that so longs to shine upon us. Very sad and sorrow filled, but beautifully written.

[icelandicblue]

Thanks Jack-

So far even turning on the lights don't help but it does ebb and flow. I think the holidays are coming and all those firsts without someone you love makes everything seem different and wrong.
I was younger when I lost my mom, I was very close to her when I lost her but I handled it much differently. I had a young family and really couldn't give into my grief and of course I still had my father then. This whole orphan thing, even at my age is very lonely.

[Jack...]

I know my friend. I lost my father a few years ago, still have my mother, but living so far away from them I think buffers the loss a little bit more for me, but it still hurts. But this is why we build our own families and why your parents built theirs, so that during these times we still have important people in our lives. I hope these holidays pass quickly for you and the new year brings more smiles than frowns.

[Rita L. Sev]

A deep and melancholy piece; your poem is the Stone into which you have poured your sorrow. This is beautifully written, Blue.

[icelandicblue]

Thank you for your kind and empathetic comment.

[Dr. Wood ?]

oh this is so deeply sad ICE

but beautifully so

[icelandicblue]

Thanks Doc, I appreciate it.

[s y e]

Wow Anne - this is a powerful piece. A lot of grief felt in this piece.

"and the clock wrings it hands,
for grief knows no schedule."

-- Great use of personification

[icelandicblue]

Thanks sweetie-

Grief is a hard thing to work your way around. Thanks for the read.

[s y e]

It's very hard Anne - it takes a while to get over....

[Diana]

"and the clock wrings it hands,
for grief knows no schedule."- lovely use of personification, very raw.

"the sharp soul of the grieving stone"- ending again with more personification. i love the notion of souls, one word that says a volume... A joy to read.

[icelandicblue]

Thanks Diana-

I think I use a lot of personification in my writing. I'm glad you liked it.