This is not a good poem.
I can’t seem to find my voice –
It is missing among the tangle
in my heart.
I keep digging in the bramble
and coming up empty.
I invite her back
and tell her I miss her soothing tones
which lift and heal.
I miss her guidance.
I know this is an important time –
a time when the losses are dramatic and scary
and a deeper knowing
is required.
I have been preparing for this moment
as have you.
Life has brought us here together.
We have certainly hit the brambles before.
And we have made it through…
But this time I find myself speechless.
The brambles are thick and unrelenting,
paralyzing expression.
It seems a moment
when words cannot dare to speak
what the heart cannot sort
or feel.
It is a time
to nurture the silence.
It needs space right now.
The words can rest
until they know what to say.
Copyright© Cynthia Cady Stanton, April 10, 2020
Covid 19 Pandemic
Becoming and Beholding 
I feel your poem captures how speechless and at a loss for words we are these days. I’ve tried to say this, but you did so very eloquently.
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