Continuance

I told my friend
the grief is like a flame
that is always lit within me.
It burns every day
inside Jennifer Dawn.
It's intensity rises with the
anniversary -
one side of the flame,
a personal pool of hot lava frustration
drop in to revolt.
Yet it burns
peacefully most of all because
within me is
always
the flame of love,
an endless supply of
listen, connect
and receive.
I swim in the
bottomless pool of
peaceful water.

Is it two flames?
One flame changes?
Is it two rooms, two pools
in my heart?

I told my friend the grief is like
the Olympic flame,
and I discover there are two flames
inside the torch.
The yellow one burns cooler and is prone
to extinguish in the wind and rain,
but there is a smaller, hotter flame
which is capable of relighting the other one.

I cherish this flame(s) and all it is
from when I climb out of bed in the morning
to when I place my head on my pillow at night.
I honor the pain.
It is a symbol to me of celebrating life
the daily ceremony of honoring
myself
my mother
and our love.