Death is so inarticulate.
Grief, however, speaks to our hearts and from our hearts.
Grief can sing and grief can sign.
Grief can write poetry and grief can tell stories.
Grief can speak from loudspeakers and from tiny mouths.
Grief can say I love you and grief can ask for help.
Grief is fluent in the language of heartbreak, translating the unspeakable and the unimaginable into black and white (and still we can’t believe our eyes.)
Grief speaks their names when no one else dares to.
Grief hears their voices when everyone else just hears silence.
Grief sees their faces when we look up at the moon or at that stranger on the street who has just their shade of hair and eyes.
Grief takes their place at the dinner table and in the empty bed and is always there at the bottom of the glass.
Death is so inarticulate, but grief
grief speaks our language.
monique minahan 