#Grief #BookReview: About the Real stages…

Grief has been my oldest pal or should I say the ghosts of grief could never leave me. It is one emotion that can never be suppressed. I’ve always poured it into my poetry. So, when I saw Kaye’s book that talks about personal grief, my ghosts of grief resurfaced to speak to me. I could deal with them within one day, could write two poems and finish reading this new release of my blogger buddy within a day. I could feel her words.

A journey through grief is a torture that can never be explained yet Kaye gathers the strength to talk about it, as it is cathartic; it provides inner strength and gives a reassurance that grief may be personal but not individualistic. Grief changes us, it alters our life and we wonder where are the friends and family who disappear after the funeral. It is a deserted path and we have to traverse it alone. “Grief never leaves, it just finds its way into a comfortable spot within.” I could relate to these words of the author. We have to learn to live with it. 

In this book, Kaye calls grief “a disease” and urges grievers to pay attention to their health. They should get out and go for a walk, talk to people, as human connection at such a time is extremely important. We may be sad and unmotivated, but we have to take up some activity to get out of the darkness, and find a new way of living. Another meaningful advice is that It is better to face the grief demons than become susceptible to addiction of any sort.

Real Stages of Grief may be different for each griever; we may seek a comforting hand, but solace eventually comes from within. “It is not words we need in our hours of grief; it’s an ear and hugs,” says Kaye. However, she warns against scammers and lurkers who want to be friends with you. “Beware of sob stories from those seeking financial gain.” Many more significant aspects of grief, and ways of emerging from those dark alleys have been shared in this book. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

HAPPY READING!

A Haibun

Perennial Pain

It’s the third Diwali without you. Darkness still surrounds me. Frozen heart refuses to accept logic; numb eyes return to the door again. I know you are not here but I don’t want to light any diyas or any electric lights. Diwali wishes sound like a slap in the face. Do you remember my enthusiasm for burning crackers and eating sweets the whole day? I don’t want to buy any now. I just soak in the mist of those memories. I have no nepenthe, but darkness gives more solace than the artificial lights.

festive occasions –
a yawning rumbling thunder
perennial pain.
© Balroop Singh

Thank you.

Here is the Amazon link for my grief poetry book: Just One Goodbye

All the posts on my blog are created by me and are protected by copyright. It is strictly prohibited to use them to train AI technologies.

Morbid Moments & Spring Whispers…

I have returned but am still struggling to accept the misfortune that befell me, still unable to forget the shocking moments – when the most loved and respected person in my life was suddenly snatched away from me. As if that was not enough, I lost my mom too and had to rush to India to be with my siblings. Dumbstruck, we hugged each other, mourning the double loss.

a meandering mind
no inspiration to write
I drift with moments

such morbid moments
that question the unperceived
but no one answers!

choked beyond spirit
I wander in search of muse
delusions abound.

© Balroop Singh

Held hostage by a wintery heart, I am trying to ignite the embers of life by welcoming spring. In this part of California, the trees have blossomed and daffodils and tulips can be seen all around though some clouds still linger at the horizon. Thanks to Colleen’s 24 Seasons Syllabic Poetry Challenge, I could barely manage a Butterfly Cinquain.

Spring Whispers

March winds
knock at the door
shake me out of slumber
spring returns with a song of hope,
perks up –
murmuring melodies of faith
igniting self-belief –  
admire the sun
sans you. 
© Balroop Singh

Thank you dear readers for your love and support.

In Mourning – Shocked & Heartbroken

Jatinderpal Singh 1953 – 2023

We have lost our gem – the most revered person of our family. My dearest husband, Sardar Jatinder Pal Singh Srao, affectionately called JP, passed away suddenly on 24 October 2023. We are shocked beyond words. His unexpected and untimely demise has left us heartbroken. He was a loving husband, a wonderful father, an adorable grandfather, a superb friend and a benevolent person with a divine streak. A simple man, with a magnanimous heart, he met each challenge of his life with a smile. An epitome of goodness and generosity, he believed in giving unconditional love to humanity. I don’t know how the monster of death tip-toed around him to snatch him away from me, in an instant. Doctors say it was a massive heart attack.

Darkness encompasses me
Walls are closing in upon me
I am wedged.
I try to scream but voice fails me
Words float around, mocking:
Where is your wisdom?

A glacier of grief sits in my throat
Constricting the tendons
Am I shattered?
That’s an understatement.
I can’t breathe.

Balroop Singh.

Shackled…

Image from: Pixaby

Precious possessions
Remnants of your love
The only solace now
I know it, yet my heart skips a beat

Unknown shackles fetter me
Pull me into a deep dungeon
The wait seems eternal
Memories mingle in woeful moments.

The night may be dark
But a million stars are shining
The breeze may be stuck in the trees
But it’s reaching me.

You may be miles away
I can feel your soft touch,
Wafting around me
Wrapped in the honeyed hope.

Don’t fret, I’ll be there soon.
© Balroop Singh, August 2021.

Inspired from the loss of a friend.

If the choice is given to the poet, my words flow faster and Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge becomes a cake walk! Thanks Colleen.

For more poetry: click here to hear Magical Whispers

Have you checked my latest release? – Slivers: Chiseled Poetry

A Single Mother

Sad woman by seashore
Image from Pinterest

I sat by the shore
Watching a woman
Swathed by the waves
Sometimes completely inundated
She sat there frigid.

I knew she was crestfallen
Her grief seemed to be raw
A lump rose in my throat
As I walked towards her
She sat there unaware.

I spoke some words of solace
To assuage her emotional deluge
Her fiery eyes bore through me
A scary stony expression of glare
Didn’t deter my positivity

I pressed further…share it
Say it…feel the words that heal
The arrows that sat on her tongue
Pierced my heart into smithereens
I clutched her hand when she spoke…

Do you know a shooting pain
That rises every moment?
Do you know how it feels
To be asphyxiated every second?
Do you know what is loss?

Loss of an only child
My only hope, my only star
Who went to school to study
Bubbling with life cut short by a bullet
Is this the price we pay for learning?

Can your words restore my faith?
Can your hope bring my son back?
Can you assure me no more would be killed?
Can your words mitigate the woes
Of a single mother?

Can you oust the demons
That excoriate me night and day?
Can you replace the walls
That torment me all night?
Can you douse the fire within?
Teary eyed I looked at her, dumb-founded.
© Balroop Singh

This poem was written after the deadliest school massacre occurred at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Broward County, Florida on February 14, 2018.

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You can click here for more poetry.