Even the fiercest wave can carry you home if you learn to trust its pull.
Grief comes in waves
not gentle tides,
but deep-water surges
that pull at the roots.
You can stand against it,
or let it take you
both are exhausting,
both leave you changed.
Grief is what we view,
based on what we can’t see anymore.
A tidal wave of loss.
There is also the grief you can see,
touching a different depth,
the kind that
requires another enduring perspective.
One that is received , with
or without permission.
Like waves laying upon a quiet beach,
the weight of water
is the weight of memory,
pressing against the chest
until every breath
is a choice.
When it recedes,
you find the shore altered
lines drawn where none were before,
stones rearranged,
driftwood marking where the tide reached last.
You learn to read those signs,
to know how far the waves can come
before they break you again.
And maybe,
just maybe,
you begin to trust
that even in the pull,
something is carrying you home.
~Kerri-Elizabeth~
Every wave changes the shoreline and every change leaves a map. This series moves with the water and the wind, through the quiet ache and the slow return. The next current rises tomorrow, and its direction is still unknown.
SONSHINE FOR YOU 
i always say every brush stroke changes the picture!
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It sure does!!! Absolutely!!! Sometimes other’s think I’m done then one more stroke and another picture appears opening new emotions and wonder.
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Kerri, this reminds me so much of what I went through in deep grief. I remember writing a poem named “my tears filled an ocean” and it carried so many of the same images as you’ve described.
I’m here with you as you continue this journey. Sending love and hugs.
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This is an achingly beautiful and deeply moving piece. 🌊
The way you’ve captured grief through the metaphor of waves is both raw and profoundly relatable. Every line carries weight — not just of sorrow, but of resilience and quiet transformation.
I love how you show grief not only as something that overwhelms, but also as something that reshapes us, leaving marks like tides on a shore. That closing thought — of being carried home even in the pull — is stunningly hopeful, offering comfort without dismissing the heaviness. It’s poetry that feels like both a balm and a mirror. Truly exquisite. 💙
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Wow thank you for that, I’m so happy that resonated so well.. and i appreciate all that so much. Thank you so much!😊
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