Listen to my lament, Maker of earth and sky!
This tightness in our lungs; these tears that rise unbidden;
These overwhelming tremors of sorrow and grief;
Demand a witness.
Only the dead lie in their graves
The rest of us are walking, breathing,
Carrying death, our hearts ripped out,
Slain and wounded and desolate
As wave after wave of grief rushes against us.
I am alone in my despair –
Shut in, with nightmares looming overhead.
Fear and dread arise, throwing off graveclothes.
I cry out in terror; is there anyone to hear me?
Must I bear the horror of my hurts forever?
Who can raise me back to life?
Can the beauty of Spring reach inside this tomb?
Can the hope of life penetrate these prison walls?
I have been friends with peace and love and joy.
No more.
Abandoned, helpless, deserted.
These counselors of vigor
Have vanished, leaving me to weep alone.
If this suffering will honour those we lost
It is enough.
We will suffer and weep and mourn.
Strengthen us, Presence of Goodness,
To endure true heartache for the fallen.
inspired by Psalm 88
Something Deeper 
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