You don't need to be grateful for everything to be grateful for the path you’ve chosen in the wake of everything. Heartbreak may or may not have led you to more desirable places, but how you choose to walk now also matters — and it’s okay to be grateful for that.

Feelings are guides and, in that way, gifts, but their messages often go way deeper than what we initially read into. That feeling is speaking some truth and it’s meant to be experienced, just don’t confuse it with who you are. Feeling is healing and it’ll grant you access to deep wisdom, and here are a few ways how.

Grief changes reality. It twists and stretches what you thought you knew, shaping it into something very different. Life after loss isn’t the same for everyone, but these poems about loss hint at what can come out of this new reality: a continual, ever-evolving relationship which death changes, but doesn’t diminish.

This is a not-so-morbid poem about death. I think death needs to be talked about, written about, read about, thought about without the labels that seem to always be applied to it. I’m all for the mystery.

This poem about grieving speaks to keeping an open mind and heart. It’s certainly a practice, which means that it’s ongoing (one day could house all the stages of grief) and requires our attention.

Grief has taught me that loving is pretty similar to living: maybe, two lines in the same poem. Read these poems about grief to remember that death is part of the circle of life. That without an end, something couldn’t begin. And maybe circles don’t really have endings or beginnings, just continuations.

Healing is a moment-to-moment experience. It's one reason we need time and space — to digest all that happens. Read these poems about healing and give yourself that gift of grace, of patience, of wonder, of thanks.

Love that's never lost, never apart, never incomplete... what love really means. Read these notes to remember, and feel better about every single relationship you have. When you're hurt, dismantled, closed down, misunderstood, consider the love that’s “missing” and treat the pain like it’s a call for your own love.

I’m not sure that we’re ever ready for a loved one to pass away. Even after all this time, I am still not ready. Yet, these reflections on grieving are radiant with life because to have loved has turned out to mean: to have lived. What greater gift could I, my living soul, have asked for?

Love inevitably leads back to love. That usually (probably always) means that sorrow is going to get thrown into the mix. Love, however, doesn’t stop. It may seem like it stops, but it morphs and flows; it’s powerful, eternal like that. This small collection of grief poetry is a reminder that “again” happens too.