Hands of Grief

Having it been confirmed I’m entering stage 4 CHF, with preparation for yet another heart operation underway this week for me, my thoughts fall to my father, whom we lost to a heart condition. He was my hero, and to this day, I miss him so very very much.

~ For all fathers/husbands long passed, recently deceased, or about to die ~

 

Deep in nightfall
the darkness now descends
the hands of grief extend
terror is knocking at the door

it’s nightfall
words of sorrow stain my lips
slip through my fingertips
and scatter ‘cross the floor

it’s nightfall
the shadows hide my tears
but I am haunted by my fears
I am broken evermore

here in this nightfall
dark waves of misery
are rising like the sea
I am stranded on the shore

it’s nightfall
I am lost — I am alone
confusion grips me to the bone
grief chills me to my core

it’s nightfall
the darkness still descends
the hands of grief again extend
terror is knocking — knocking at the door

as this knocking echoes in my night
I hear you call my name
“be brave my son — for sure
you have been here before”

I whisper through tears and pain
”father — help me again endure”

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: dVerse

 

14 thoughts on “Hands of Grief”

  1. Rob, your father’s voice, from beyond passing, reaches back to comfort you. May your surgeon’s hand be steady and your father’s presence keep you calm.

  2. Yesterday was a tough one for me … the anniversary of my Father’s death in 1958. I read your poem once silently, another time aloud .. in tribute to him. Thank you.

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