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“But grief, too, is a kind of alchemy, a slow and painful reshaping. It does not stay as lead, Though it feels it will, pressing, suffocating, unyielding. Time enters the crucible, and with it, the heat of memory, The fire of longing, The slow stirring of what it means to love and to lose.” — Avalon Ash
But grief, too, is a kind of alchemy,
a slow and painful reshaping.
It does not stay as lead,
Though it feels it will,
pressing, suffocating, unyielding.
Time enters the crucible,
and with it, the heat of memory,
The fire of longing,
The slow stirring of what it means to love
and to lose.