The Colors of Grief

There has been much sadness for me of late. During the month of July three people I know have passed away. One was not unexpected I guess, though always a miracle is hoped for, and the other two were unexpected. Neither way lessens the sadness.

I have been working with a concept for a while now about grief, which the butterfly taught me; mourn the caterpillar but celebrate the butterfly. So in my heart there is, in part, celebration for the transformation and return to pure Spirit that these souls have undergone. Yet, there is also the part that is grieving. That is the part of my heart that I listened to tonight.

The Colors of Grief
Lynda Allen

What is the color of grief?
What hue the hole in a heart?
What shade emptiness?

Tradition would have it be black,
somber and dark.
Music might have it be blue,
mournful and sad.
But what of light?
What color light would grief be?

The essence you brought was a light,
a beacon.
Perhaps then, this mortal form
is but a way to transform light,
a prism.
Shining from the spirit
through the body,
into life as the limitless colors of you.

Each expression and action had its own shimmering shade.
Each smile a slightly different red.
Each raised eyebrow a kind of blue.
Each laugh a vibrant, iridescent violet.
Each beat of your loving heart an orange I had never before seen.
Each compassionate word a unique and gentle yellow.
Each caring touch wrapped in a bouquet of greens.
Each song you sang brought a burst of indigo.

My grief therefore, cannot be limited to one color,
like you, it is a brilliant rainbow,
painful for the eyes to linger upon
and yet too beautiful to look away.

Reverently, I take up a life’s great brush with both hands,
and paint a portrait of you
using all the colors of grief.


In honor of Sibylle Borger, Lisa Rakoczy and Ralph Davis