grief is a sonnet. it's beauty, it's a lukewarm waterfall. it's a warmth that washes over us, intense. consuming, penetrating until we yield. and in that

grief is a sonnet. it's beauty, it's a lukewarm waterfall. it's a warmth that washes over us, intense. consuming, penetrating until we yield. and in that silence, we let go. grief is beautiful because it's a gentle descent, where in that abyss is a hand that lifts us; like a infant just now born, being wrapped in warm cloth, and given to its mother. i have an intimate relationship with grief. i see it coming again to visit, and i know it will be one of the last feelings i will experience as i arrive. it's only "strange" because we are not as familiar with non duality as we are with duality. grief is a chain that unbinds. it's a 10-Ton weight that makes you lighter. i guess it's time for bed.