A Cup of Tea With Grief

My grief and I sat in a room

and had tea.

My anger poured us a brew

from the lotus flower.

Grief and I drank it 

we started to feel

like we were stuck there

forever.

I asked anger

what other brews we had

anger stomped off.

I guess it didn’t want me

to feel any different.

I realized

it would probably always be

my grief and me.

Grief was the only thing

that never stomped

out of the room

when things got hard.

I sat across grief

and I asked it,

why are you still here ? 

Grief said

I’m the price

for all that comes

through your life

come of it what may.

We sat there

and I reached

for more tea

this time, stirring in

some sugar.

For if grief and I

are to share a table,

the tea may as well

taste sweet.