Nature tends to my grief
How the stories and connections of the land sew me into belonging and soften the edges
My grief whispered to me, that I must find others to help me hold it.
Plants. Soil. Mycelium. Water. Birdsong. Fire. Books. Poems. Trees. Forests.
My grief asked me over and over to find kin, to find love, to find holding, to find connection.
To link and sew myself into reciprocal entanglement with what is beautiful, nourishing and good.
Grief asks that I seek beauty and absorb its medicine.