As requested by many..
They are from my new book, Gems of Inspiration: Transformative Poetry from
the Heart for the Soul. I'll paste a couple of samples. 2 of my
favorites...A sincere Namaste to all in this process..love Gary Stuart LA,
CA
GRIEF
Grief oh grief
You're like a lowly thief in the dark of the night
As you cut a deep wound as sharp as a knife
Grief oh grief
You stole my loved one and took their life
Now all I feel is an endless strife
Grief oh grief
You can never be denied
Because all you do is make people cry
Grief oh grief
You're so crafty and sly
and act as insidious as a dangerous spy
Grief oh grief
Why do you leave us in the dark
as you steal a body and leave your mark?
Grief oh grief
You mercilessly feed on life's fragile "spark"
and leave us great sadness that's locked in our hearts
Grief oh grief
We must let you go to prove to ourselves
that we are in control
Grief oh grief
You haven't conquered my soul.
I'm taking charge now and letting you go!
The Price of Youth
From the day we're born, destiny carries us along
though the weight of the elders' fate is carried on the shoulders of the
young.
The elders, once young, carried the ancestors of those ancients who came
before. This common truth we cannot ignore.
Enduring this pain adds to life's yearly gain as our precious youth wanes
into the wrinkled, time-worn face of our common destiny.
The grief we all share often leads to despair over the loss of those who
came before which imparts a heavy heart of sorrow like that never felt
before.
The seemingly endless joys of life are now gruesomely filled with mortal
strife, striking a melancholy note in a sweet, sad song of sorrow and
loss.
Yet we still remain youthful survivors, but at what cost?
Yes, grief is the price we pay for this life we enjoy every day.
The price of youth is expensive indeed,
as they bear the burden of watching the others leave.
The job of the young is to carry on even after the elders are gone,
thus reminding the surviving ones that the dead still do belong.
The joy of the young is to learn to sing a bittersweet song of sorrow,
all the while knowing a better day hopefully awaits tomorrow.
We stand in life to carry on living and breathing from dusk till dawn;
if we're lucky, we sing a sweet song to our dearly departed or our lovely
newborn.
The price of youth is measured in the simple cost of losing our breath,
which always brings us to our untimely death.
Everything in life may be free, but now I see the price I pay to be close to
Thee.
From: Betsy Yizraeli [mailto:betsyly@xxxxxxxxx] ;
Sent: Thursday, January 24, 2008 12:31 AM
To: Gary Stuart
Subject: Re: [ConstellationTalk] Funeral
Dear Gary,
I'd be interested in reading the poems you mentioned
that help transform grief, if you'd be kind enough to
send them.
All blessings,
Betsy
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
