Skip to main content

SONG OF GRIEF by Linda Yael Schiller

 I find that the muse often strikes when much of the world is asleep…

As this poem came through to me at 4:00 a.m. following the memorial service of a 21 year-old member of our dance community. He fell while hiking alone, and his mom was both torn and bereft and reaching for connection with him from beyond.

 While I did not intend it to be so, the poem came through to me in the style of Rumi and the other Persian mystics: fittingly as he was of Moroccan heritage.  

The languaging for G*d is purposefully open-ended so as to be inclusive; however the phrases used to describe Him/Her are a translation from the Hebrew in my mind.

Song of Grief

Let yourself be as a hollow reed
so the wind-breath of the Blessed One can blow through you

and play you
the sounds of your grief:

your moan

your sigh

your keening cry.

Do not close down or block

the Breath of life

from finding in you opening.

Gently, gently

let yourself be hollowed

From the inside out

or outside in
(either way).

Thus clearing the debris from the path,

so the sounds of the universe 

of eternity

can play through you
and through that hollowness of your pain
and your grief and your longing

you can become 

An instrument of the One.
'Sorrow' by Julie Fain

Linda Yael Schiller, MSW, LICSW is a psychotherapist, educator, author and dream-worker in Watertown, MA.  Now in private practice, she has taught extensively at Boston University, Simmons College, and Regis College, as well as at national and international forums and seminars on dream-work, spiritual mind/body work, trauma treatment, group work, and integrating practical Kabbalah into both therapy and life.  She nurtures her soul with gardening, hiking, dancing, writing, and being with family and friends. You may connect with Linda via her website here, her blog here, or on her new dream blog here

~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~ 


  1. Divine Timing for this poem to appear! Thank you - 3/4 marked the 2nd anniversary of my nephew's suicide and I realize that some wounds take longer to heal than others -- and then the Universe sends me this magnificent poem from your heart!

    1. Wow! I was just writing a friend about timing and how mysteriously it coincides with our heart's longings, when I read this comment of yours, Mary. It turns out that Linda had submitted this poem a whole month ago, and somehow it was lost for a while in my inbox! I found it only last night, on the tail of another suicide of a young man, which happened a few days ago. So yes: Divine timing indeed! Thank you for sharing. I have a feeling this poem is speaking to many hearts today.

    2. Your flute struck the perfect notes. Moving and true. Your poem is a blessing

    3. Lovely words....but formatting symbols are appearing with more lines. I wonder why.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I AM STILL HERE by Janavi Held


This was composed by a very gifted and beautiful soul: a regular contributor to our poetry project, and dear friend of mine, Janavi Held, whose life is gradually being taken from us by an incurable illness. She has been suffering from Complex Regional Pain Syndrome and Internal Adhesions for six painful years now, and neither her insurance nor the government healthcare will help her. She reaches out to us, her sisters, as a last plea. This is a poem she wrote yesterday on her birthday, in which she offers us the gift of her friendship. May it touch your generous hearts and inspire you to reach out to her in her plight.

Dear Friends,

The last time I was able to leave the house was by ambulance on my way to the hospital. After many long hours in the emergency room I was admitted and taken upstairs. After everyone left I sat on the hospital bed, knees to chest, bracing my body against the pain and trembling.

The light of this cold day was fading. I turned my eyes to the la…

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness…
Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather all of life into your inner c…

DEPRESSION by Veronica Carpenter

Here goes my vulnerability A heart on a sleeve The typical person who looks at me May not see the same me that I live with daily The mind in the air, swirling with possibility When the darkness rallies/gathers/swirls When I am left to solitude This paper-thin garb unzips Here comes depression          
No I don’t want to advertise So flash a smile Those who are close get to see Through the veil, it’s really not that thick Circumstances in life like to stab at the rib Stumble, fall behind the door Shut out the world Feelings well and weigh down Strength hidden deep in the core So deep that sometimes it’s forgotten Here comes the darkness My old friend Sweeping through my every move  Doubts, fears, un-named masked men Oozing like honey, sticking to everything
Patience is required to get on this ride There is a cycle but its pattern is unknown Slowly my gift will unwrap itself Stay on the path Coming back to that which never truly left me Just laid sleeping out of exhaustion from the fight Dormant in winter…