The Tightness of my Heart

I sit on a deep sofa.

 Flames leap behind glass in the wood burner.

 The woman opposite me is talking.

 I listen and I cry and I blow my nose.

 Her husband died 4 years ago.

 She is giving me permission to  grieve.

In my own mountainous messy way.

Like she did.

Does.

I  have come to her for healing.

And she lays her hands in the small of my back

In the crevices of my ears.

On the bones of my chest.

And  gently opens up the spaces

 in my cells.

So it is safe to let go of

the clench

I maintain

from my jaw to 

my toes.

But it is her words of

gentleness and

 of understanding 

of

this has happened to me too

and

you will get better

when you do

that 

open up a space in

the tightness

 of

my heart.