Now that She is talking about her death,
Grief rises like a volcano
threatening to blow the top off this head.
Saved only by the sideways explosion from eyes/nose/mouth.
Grief, not painful grief.
Grief with such an intense pleasure that it could easily be mistaken for pain.
Without concern for appearance or response,
Sweet Grief takes over the mind/body Organism.
Thoughts and Feelings get swept upwards in the torrent of Love.
Occasionally a thought floats into consciousness saying,
"you're a selfish bastard! This isn't about You.
Where is your consideration for those more worthy of Sweet Mother Grief ?"
To which i reply "O Thought, you may be right,
but Happening is no Choice. "
And sometimes it seems that it Is Their grief being expressed Here.
Asked to do the Eulogy, and the story began;
"please everybody get your handkerchief or tissues out and ready.
i wrote many things about Heather and with each one Wept a bucket of tears.
i will start at the top of the list
But the moment i break up into tears i would like you to join me,
and we will just celebrate Her with a great big noisy cry.
... Ok, here we go...."