Waist Deep

Waist Deep

People say grief is climbing over some massive mountain.
And it is not,
or tiredly dragging yourself up 
the tallest flight of stairs.

Grief is standing waist deep 
in the river
with the current pressing upon you.
It would be so much easier to let go,
let yourself be carried away with it,
collapse and drown.

It takes extreme effort, 
just to stand where you are,
without losing.
And when you've found and reclaimed your breath,
when you can plead and will your body to plow forward,
there is no certainty below this water,
whether you will trip on a rock 
or stumble into another ditch.
There are many.

Each step is determined.
Without any idea of where,
or how you will recover.
And even when you take every precaution,
all the moments you need to be solid,
a branch can slam into you 
right out of nowhere,
taking you and all you have done,
so carefully
and intentionally

down.