Warm tears running down my face
Invade my sacred space
Putting me back in my place
Reminding me:
I’m a mourner
And my shoulders when they tremble
Cause me to disassemble
Piercing through the edifice I assemble
To face the truth:
I’m a mourner
Then the welling up within my chest
Speaks even louder than the rest
Explaining why I’m not always my best
Because:
I’m a mourner
Oh, we try to move so fast
We so desperately want to get past
This pain, we hope it won’t last
Who am I kidding?
I’m a mourner
<< Who would’ve thought I needed reminders? >>
Modim anachnu lach
I give thanks
For unanticipated admissions
Defying my presuppositions
Forcing me to embrace new definitions
About who I am:
I am.
Still.
A Mourner.
Explore more poetry about mourning Papa (my dad, Ken Kipnes).
Watch my videos about mourning
Enjoy more of my spoken word poetry