I've discovered a thick bell inside of me
that elegiac poetry rings
a terribly deep booming
It has always been there, I can tell
but I had forgotten
I think it is in all of us
a human ache, a fathomless
Being dead while alive mutes its swell
wraps the bell in fog and distance
and it must be one of the Mysteries
that you have to be alive to feel
that resounding shake of loss in your core
that throws all semblance to hell
Depression... could its fog be protection?
from all we have lost and are losing?
But a quelling that keeps us dead
In the face of death
A society that does not realize it is in mourning
that grief is appropriate
that an elegy is going unsung
yet still death is
A student of anthropology and philosophy, lover of learning and homeschooling mother, Lia Hunter grew up in a conservative Christian cult and had to learn critical thinking the hard way, now values it highly, and looks behind all the cultural curtains. She came home to Paganism in 2000 and blogs at SageWoman blogs (The Tangled Hedge) and her personal spirituality blog (Awenydd of the Mountains).