No Sorrow Seen

Poem by Karen Abeyta

 
 

No Sorrow Seen

No body breathless or casket
to cradle the weight of death.
No funeral or tombstone
to mark the passing when
death dies unseen.

No requiem sung, despair loiters
behind clenched smiles. It wafts
like a mouse decaying in the wall. Irons us
out flat––brittle and threadbare,
trapped in a warren, while others take tea.

The husband who strayed,
the friend who betrayed,
the career that waned,
unspoken dreams frayed––
a bloodletting beneath pale bruises of shame.

The babies with no heartbeat (nobody knew),
When the last child leaves home
what remains? What to do?
A gnawing demise of a life imagined
seeping through fists tight as knots.

Our minds count blessings, while our souls sip sorrow.
We journal gratitude smothering thanklessness
for our food, and clothing, and warm, clean beds.
Others have it far worse we think.
How dare we mourn with no sorrow seen?

About the author

Karen Abeyta

Karen lives in Vermont with her husband and (sometimes) her two kids who attend college. A true theology geek, she enjoys helping people understand the Bible. Her work has been published in Fathom Magazine, Heartstrong Faith, Sacred Stories Ministries, Saturday SOULfood, and Just Between Us.

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Silence as an Invitation

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Unwinding Overthinking