My heart grieved for you the moment I saw the image of your design. I’m sorry for your loss isn’t adequate. May our God, who is able, resurrect life from the dead.

With love,
Tammy

I’m flabbergasted at how you put this together, Lynn! I literally have tears in my eyes as I read it, both by how you pieced something new together (doing the very thing the post is about!) and that you took the time to do it. What a gift, my friend! I don’t take this for granted. I know your energy is precious. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Entering the Unknown
by Lynn D. Morrissey

—to Lisa, with empathy and love

hidden-treasure poem, excavated from Lisa Burgess’s “Dead Flowers Can Be Rearranged Too” (10.17.23)

Enter the unknown …
nudge loose the grand design in my mind
and see a clear pattern.

How did I get here?

Earlier, behind me, a few fears and insecurities …
I was about to meditate (a chance to breathe in my body),
but resist the invitation—anxious.

I didn’t know what life would expect from me.
I only knew this intense life could use
nourishing consent to enter the
unknown,
to discover my arrival—something good, something difficult—
a small, calm view,
a clear pattern forming.

Stripping the pieces creates a beautiful design.

I continue to pull apart:
I let go of any preconceived notions,
recycle the old for this meditative practice,
pick up the dying,
then let it go.

I never thought of doing such a thing.
It pains me to tear apart,
sit with the mess,
with the dying,
but I eventually find my rhythm forming beneath my fingertips.

I need an opening, an outlet to spread out, to see
this shape I’ve created.
The center is no longer.
In the middle, I create teardrops,
mirroring my inner self.

I’m open for future movement, not stagnant closure.
I know it won’t always be this way—
I won’t always be this way.
I can’t remove the deep wound; I carry horrific loss, but
I can still move forward in productive, meaningful ways,
alive to rearrange the pieces,
show up,
breathe in and out,
listen,
grow!

I don’t have to understand or predict how love works,
just trust it to be so.
Everything changed before.
Everything will change again.
This is life, one moment to the next, till it
is time to leave, to walk away.

But our beautiful work always remains, ready to surprise,
ready to be transformed again
into still something else.

Life is impermanent, yet we humans accept temporary invitations
to piece together beauty from ashes,
joy from sorrow,
life from death.

It’s both mystery and miracle—
this unexplainable urge to create that rises up inside us—
knowing that our creations won’t last forever.
We birth life anyway—spacious—
our purpose in this moment, complete.
So we let go and move forward …

i leave here with my heart touched. again.