Member-only story
Loss and Love Becoming
Loss and Love Becoming
by Jane Tawel
June 15, 2020
And so, we watch. And listen. There is sometimes nothing more. And sometimes the least we can do, is the best we can do.
And so, as all things must end, we grasp the final straw of a moment, wishing we could start a new haystack, start all over again, building something permanent, not something so easily burnt-up, burnt-out, smoldering within the hazy, choking smoke of our agonizing defeats.
And we look away from the fires, and we do not reach out our hands. These fires do not warm us. We run to the water, knowing that nothing lasts but the ebb and flow of life and death, life and death, life and death… like waves coming to shore but leaving for somewhere unkept.
Wishing hard will hurt the heart, but giving up will kill the soul. There can be no end to the mercy we must grant our pain.
“Yesterday, I should have done”. “Today, I must”. We tell ourselves tall tales while, Tomorrow beckons like a small flame easily snuffed-out by loss.
Each moment can be a new beginning to the hopes nestled in our cherished memories. Each intention falls short unless propped-up by a letting-go of self-containment. There is no joy in the prison of one’s certainty of aloneness nor in the sham of…
