If I am to be severed from my first attachments, make me a bridge between relief and this emerging specter, too terrible to name.
Let me accept what may follow this request, including instructions for rooting this body as an anchor in what it dreads––or else I am no link, just a floating possibility.
Let me brace against what may yet be, extending out over the dark deep, to this unknown shore: the craggy, silty, boggy knot of its broiling terror.
Lend courage to this limb, that I may hold. If I am far from the tree, let my spine be the crossing from the land of none to the place where it might yet be.
2 thoughts on “Plea”
This is amazing.
So relevant to someone I met in the complex today.
She has lost her husband and is struggling.
Granny. Thank you. Sending love to both of you.