Dandelion Breaths

  I scooped white clouds from spoiled blue sky to float a sea gull wind.   For a few moments I felt the breath of eternity, the weightless wink of dreamers.   I was everything in nothing, and nothing in everything, an exhale releasing the storm.   Freedom didn’t tease or ask permission. It just took all of me exactly where I needed to fly.  ©Susie Clevenger 2022 The Sunday Muse #223 This is the blog I have dedicated to the grieving process of losing my daughter, Cynthia Dawn. In this journey there are days of light and dark and thankfully the last few have had more light. I often turn to art as therapy. In fact I call my artistic expression my journal. This week I created art from sticks and beads. When I saw this image from Carrie on the Sunday Muse it inspired me to express through poetry what my art projects did for me this past week. 

"Grief is not a disorder, a disease or a sign of weakness. It is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity, the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve." Earl Grollman Today is July 30, 2022. You've been gone a little over six months now Dawn. On this hot, sunny Saturday I wish you were here, and we were planning to go to a movie, perhaps Elvis, or watching our favorite house makeover show on television. Instead your dad and I were at yours and Daniel's grave replacing flowers in the vase on a tombstone so there would be fall colors, and worrying about how the drought was effecting your headstone.  The past few weeks have been pretty rough. Your dad, Carrie, and I miss you so much. We are fine for a minute, then missing you hits so hard we crumble under its agony. You didn't die quietly, peacefully. It was a nightmare. I can't say it any more powerfully than Carrie did on a recent Instagram post. A Treadmill     I don’t feel strong, T...