Bang the drum for our sons and daughters, for husbands and wives, mothers and friends. Shout death’s name to a clueless world. Bang the drum loudly! Love in grief has a powerful rhythm. Bang the drum with courage and strength! Bang it loud filled with compassion! Bang the drum proudly!
As for my beloved, The Rock? He is no rock! The peak I had clung to in my desperation was only a tip that descended down, his root far below the surface of the ocean. He is the land, the terra firma, the stone, pebble and mud. He is the layer upon layer of compacted silt and sand.