The Bustle in a House
The Morning after Death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon Earth —
The Sweeping up the HeartEmily Dickinson
And putting Love away
We shall not want to use again
Until Eternity —
The broom is still in my closet. I’m not ready just yet.
Thanks to a couple of special friends who shared this poem with me. It means a lot. :-)
4 responses to “The Bustle in a House”
The beauty of love: it can multiply without depleting its source. I feel the sentiment–sometimes we may never want to love again–but love will still win.
Indeed. Love does not diminish by being shared.
Thanks for dropping by and commenting. :-)
Truly comforting. I hope for you too, Brent. My mother used to say, as I was leaving her place, The Lord be with you. I like that and give it on to you.
Big Sigh. Big Hugs.
What comforts me is knowing I’m not alone. Others have gone this way before me and survived. I’m getting words of support everywhere I go. And many are feeling the same loss I am right now because my mom is gone.
It seems stupid but it’s true: misery loves company. Thanks for being there for and with me.