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 keening cry.
Do not close down or block
the Breath of life
from finding in you opening.
let yourself be hollowed
From the inside out
or outside in
Thus clearing the debris from the path,
so the sounds of the universe
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.
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