Grief

I choose to be your friend,
for it is in the deepest of grief that you find the secret of joy.

I choose to make you my muse,
for a memory of you is all it takes to touch God.

I choose to hold your hands,
for there is no difference between the most intense pain and pleasure. The weightessness bubbling at the edge of both.

I choose you as my teacher,
for it is destruction that makes things anew.

Grief and I,
We are old friends
And, we always meet with our companion
Joy.
This Trinity is yours too
But only if you learn to choose.