My grief is like a river_
I have to let it flow,
But I myself determine
Just where the banks will gọ

Some days the current takes me
In waves of guilt and pain,
But there are always quiet pools
Where I can rest agaịn

I crash on rocks of anger_
My faith seems faith indeed,
But there are other swimmers
Who know that what i need

Are loving hands to hold me
When the waters are too swift,
And someone kind of listen
When I just seem to drift.

Grief's river is a process
Of relinquishing the past.
By swimming in hope's channels
I'll reach the shore at last.

By: Cythia G. Kelly