I have to remind myself that in my grief over losses of family and friends and in my hurt over the chaos and negativity in our nation, it’s ok for me to move slowly or stand still at times. I hold on to hope and seek light even though I feel stuck in the grief. On days when I feel stronger, I can take movements forward—maybe not even full steps on some days. I can find my strength, find hope, and remember love. I can both mourn and seek healing. I can both hurt and seek hope. I can both feel alone and seek love and comfort with others.

Frozen in Grief

A foggy mist rolls across the winter land

as the melting snow meets the moist air,

and I recognize the gloominess

of my own surroundings as my tears

meet the coldness of the losses of days past.

The confidence of time eludes me now

as I know that what my soul longs for

can slip away as does the melting snow

that covered all the autumn brownness

of the landscape.

In this haze of pain and uncertainty,

I cannot walk with the confidence I need

 to believe that there is still enough time

to heal, to grow,

to change all that feels so broken.

I breathe in the stillness of the moment

and listen to the wrens and the cardinals,

the white-throated sparrow and the tufted titmouse

breaking into song as they emerge from the frozen land

to reclaim their place in life and announce their assurance

that tomorrow will be brighter just as our hope says it should.

But I have not moved from my place in the fogginess of grief and disbelief,

frozen in time as if those gone will return

and as if the wrongs of the world

will be made right if I only hold steady and wait

with my tears and fears as my companions.

But there is a price for inaction and silence and

our allowing ourselves to be defined only by the pain

that not only immobilizes us but also keeps us mired down

in the muck of life left behind after the storm.

I must step forward one small movement at a time

and sing a mournful song that will help me rediscover my voice

and once again find hope that glimpses of healing will be ahead

and glimmers of joy will come

and love will return

and peace will be what walks with us

as we move forward with grief wrapped with hope

and a song that joins the chorus of all who

lift their voices with the belief

that the time to break through the iciness

of sorrow and

all forms of pain that hold us down

and impede joy and attempt to break us

is now

We hold the keys of hope—

the small movements toward rediscovering

our new reality on this side of sorrow.

—Chris Pepple ©2025