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The Secret Life of the Mourner

There is a secret life of the mourner
That most people just don’t see
There is a secret life of a mourner
Hidden, complex, and now, me

On the outside we’re powering through
On the outside we seem sad but fine
On the outside we conquer the world
But the outside world is not mine

Because,
There is a rip in the fabric of time
A voice no longer whispering in my ear
A brokenness amidst the apparent wholeness
Rubbing against the desire to care

There is a secret life of the mourner
Filled with sadness, incredulity, and wonder
That counts the days since death and the burial
That tries to get through them with nary a blunder

On the inside we’re tired of this mourning
So everyone else surely must be too
We dare not look in the mirror
For we worry what we see, so will you

There is a secret life of the mourner
It being ragged, disheveled, and raw
A roller coaster of thoughts and emotions
We are okay, no we’re not, yes we are

 

**Shloshim refers to the 30 days after the funeral when a mourner slowly expands the place within the community


Explore more poetry about mourning Papa (my dad, Ken Kipnes).

Watch my videos about mourning

Enjoy more of my spoken word poetry

 

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