I was also reflecting on the loss of my infant son years earlier. I began wondering what I had wanted or needed when I was grieving - and what I could offer to my friend and my client in their grief. This poem is a result of that reflecting.
Diamonds
I thought that my role was
to hold up a lantern
in the dark,
subterranean
labrynths.
Shine you the path
until your eyesight
adjusted
and you could take it
on your own.
Turns out that my role is
to sit with you
naked,
in the cold,
pitch
dark
on the rim of a yawning chasm.
And, at times, to move with you
our foreheads glistening with fear,
clammy hands clasped together -
backs to the wall
groping our way,
occasionally stubbing our toes on diamonds.
© 2000 Karen Caterson