Hi Friends,
It is my absolute pleasure that today’s poem “Good Grief, the Rain”, is written and presented by the talented Kenyada Meadows. Born in the Bahamas, Kenyada’s journey has taken him from the mountains in Denver to the busy streets of New York City, where he has lived for the past decade.
When I first met Kenyada, I was struck by the rare blend of his exquisitely sharp intellect and profound artistic sensitivity. By day, he navigates the financial currents of Wall Street; by night, he gracefully explores the depth and complexities of the human condition. Kenyada is the author of the poetry collection “Afloat, Atop A Marbled Sea”, and he also hosts the podcast Executive Dads, which discusses the challenges and solutions for working fathers striving to find fulfillment at home and in their careers.
Today, Kenyada offers us “Good Grief, the Rain”, a poem written during a rainy day in New York City. I hope it resonates with you as deeply as it did with me:
Good Grief, The Rain.
by Kenyada Meadows
Good grief,
The rain.
Good for writing. And coffee.
Good for what becomes words on paper,
And roasted beans in a paper cup.
Good for whiskey.
For cuddling. For deliberation.
Meditation. And Massages.
Simply sitting and listening
To the outside world engage with itself,
Succumbing to the wet, life-giving.
While the dusty becomes clean,
The dust swells, takes on weight,
And aggregates.
There is intimacy in rain.
When everything is wet.
But is indeed life–
yet why do we complain?
The breasts of the sky sating we earthly sucklings,
Too dry of mind, history’s pages too brittle to recall
That we should be out dancing like our forefathers–
Not running and ducking and hiding inside.
Before they could read books,
They could read the earth and sky,
Kept fires burning,
And their spirits lit–
In the rain.
In this poem Kenyada reflects on the rain which becomes a metaphor for grief – a necessary process that cleanses and renews us. Just as rain brings life to the earth, grief, too, has a vital place in life’s cycles. Kenyada reminds us to “succumb to the wet, life-giving,” power of these moments, urging us to embrace rain and grief alike, not as inconveniences, but as essential forces that shape and transform us.
Our ancestors danced in the rain, celebrating its vitality and leaning into its rhythms. In the same way, Kenyada suggests, we should let grief wash over us, trusting it to cleanse and transform us. Instead of resisting, we might find deeper intimacy with life by moving with grief, rather than against it.
We are encouraged to step out, to let both rain and grief touch us, reminding us that transformation often begins with surrender. We’re invited to embrace the next rainy day as a moment to reconnect with the world and with ourselves
Prompts for reflection:
1. 🌦Let your emotions move through you: Think about a time when you resisted difficult emotions, like grief or sadness. What might have changed if you had allowed yourself to “move with” those feelings instead of resisting them?
2. 🌦Visualize the rain: Now, imagine the rain falling on you and washing over your body. Feel each drop landing on your skin. With each drop, imagine a thought, worry or pain being cleansed away. What do you feel it’s washing away? What is it helping to grow?
3. 🌦Invite ancestral resilience: Think of your ancestors or past generations. How might they have danced with life’s challenges differently than we do now? What lessons can you take from their resilience
Reading suggestions:
🌦Poetry Book: “Loss – Poems to better manage the many waves of grief” by
🌦Poem: Lotus Rain: A Poetic Journey of Transformation and Renewal by Rose Jah
💛If this resonates with you, it will mean the world to me if you subscribed to my newsletter, shared this piece, or left a comment below.💛
Love 💛
Rose
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