What a gift it was to live with my father four months in what would be the last year of his life. He passed away a year ago today. My mother had died two years earlier, and both of them gone de-centered me. I felt lost. This poem I wrote after Dad died is about that. I hope it somehow speaks to you as well.

Labyrinth of Grief

I often arrived lost
Only to rediscover
That haven of healing.
Now, in deep woods
Not far from there,
From father’s house,
My skis tread a familiar trail
But for this:
The first without him in this world.
Suddenly I choose an unknown path,
Snow fresh, my tracks the first,
Each turn, I fear, toward what?
Further away? Closer to?
A labyrinth, they say, is not a maze.
So tell me:
Where is sanctuary now?
How far?
Why should I believe a path
Always leads toward a center?
What will be there if I arrive,
And offer belovedness, now?