myth for queen of the prairie

The face of grief has many souls. This is why when it comes it is a shape you recognize. It’s been given to you in one way or another and often lives deep in the crevices of yourself.

Grief is a woman in the velvet dress with the long fingers who sits at a wooden table and looks at you with a stone face as if to curse you of the things which you already knew you have been cursed with, those sins that eat your sun and blot your mind. She has had it happen too. So has the one who is living in your veins, who has traveled from your toes to your skull who is made of blood and rage, they have had it happen too. And it might be the only story anyone knows about you. 

You might loose your mind and find in that nonsense place the plant of upside down rain, rained upon by the earth and the lost aquifers there where the deep creatures live with their hard backs and sharp pincers. And the plant is so beautiful, so full of color and hope you can’t help but weep. It’s cloudy form gives shape to your prayers - and all the prayers that have blown in this soft weird wind. Each one is a flower. Which is why, in the middle of grief is a kind of comfort, a salve for the prayers that continue to bloom even when the world is upside down.

They say that when a terrible thing has happened a mist comes. This mist is made of tears. And when she turns her face to you you will know her and she will smile. She knows the whole you, your whole self, even though you are made up of parts in the end. In the end, are we not all clouds of souls?