and now, if we go backwards,
where was the beginning?
if we choose to start again,
what will we be losing?
would the end still be the same
despite a change in choices?
I’d go back for just one thing,
to hear again the voices
of those who went ahead,
the ever loving dead
Here is an example of the funny way the mind sometimes has of leaping from one place to another. I stopped writing just now, for just a moment to make a cup of tea, and just as I sat back down the very first image that popped into my head was a morning about five years ago and, going out one Sunday morning to get some milk from the nearby shop, I saw flowers laid out on the pavement at the corner. A young man had inexplicably driven his car off the road, over the pavement and into a brick wall and was killed. He wasn’t drunk, there was nothing wrong with the brakes or the steering and, according to the local paper later in the week he wasn’t suicidal. But he was dead. This sudden memory has absolutely nothing to do with what I am writing about. I wasn’t thinking about cars, death, young men or flowers while I was making my cup of tea. Maybe in a couple of years I might suddenly realise that having this thought at this moment was very significant indeed but right now I don’t think there is any connection at all. It might be good to know.
There are two kinds of grief
Grief for the living and grief for the dead
They each have their own paths
Both consume your heart and your head
There are two kind of lost love
One leaves you empty and one fills your heart
One by decision and one by decree
The love lost through death will never depart
Both are like poison, one brings its own cure
Grief for the dead brings transition and warmth
Grief for the living is cold, icy and pure
One fills the heart, the other leaves it empty
Hearts remember the love that they felt
But life is not intended for grieving
All grief and sorrow passes in time
The cure is to love those who are leaving
The Dreaming Path 