"The Thing Is . . ."

The Thing Is

-Ellen Bass

to love life, to love it even

when you have no stomach for it

and everything you've held dear

crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,

your throat fills with the silt of it.

When grief sits with you, its tropical heat

thickening the air, heavy as water

more fit for gills than lungs;

when grief weights you like your own flesh

only more of it, an obesity of grief

you think, how can a body withstand this?

Then you hold life like a face

between your palms, a plain face,

no charming smile, no violet eyes,

and you say, yes, I will take you,

I will love you, again.

This is one of the most beautiful pieces of writing I've read, next to my own mom's poetry. This is our world, right now. This poem, so sparse in words, sums up the past year in our world, no matter that the author intended it for us or not. I like to think she did. With just a few lines, it says all I've been trying to say with entry after entry, word after word after word, explanation after explanation, falling short . . . this is my treat for you on this beautiful Halloween morning. Enjoy.