I didn’t know
At this age
How grief would swirl around me
Encasing, restricting, limiting, darkening, absorbing,
Everything
At this age
Until only my original truth
The part of me that has always been true
Gasped for breath
I sipped, then gulped, then heaved,
A death of a story
Lived, tired, frayed
Ugly
Ashes matted with tears sobbed out over many weeks
Until
At this age
Light flickered and danced
The spirit took my hand and I held hers
As Rumi said,
“No feeling is final.”
A fire, a ritual, squeezed through the dark
Until I lived into the only story I could
At this age
Janet Elizabeth Hartwick Sterk
January 5, 2026
Catherine Brennan
Hello Janet – I hope this finds you well.
This poem about grief and age is hitting me particularly right now. Every day is about small accomplishments, small victories, and the worry in between.
Happy New Year!
Cathy
HealingJourneys
Thank you Cathy. I hope this also finds you well.
marilyn mayry
thank you for this, Janet
Yes and may peace be your companion
this time asks much of us
hold tight the beautiful Spirit
marilyn mayry
thank you for this, Janet
Yes and may peace be your companion
this time asks much of us
hold tight the beautiful Spirit
HealingJourneys
Thank you Marilyn. So true. The Spirit is faithful and does not dance with fear.