When those close are blue
I find it hard to share that,
Want to cheer them up

But I know I should
Just be there, listen, let them
Feel all their feelings

Lend an ear, a hand,
Arms to hold them, if needed
And then hold my tongue

For how “should” we feel
Facing age, ills, death someday
For loved ones, ourselves?

Can there be true peace
Without facing, embracing
The melancholy?

Sometimes we must brood,
Dwell on the dark thoughts, as we
Work our way through it

Ecclesiastes
Put it right — to everything
There is a season

Attend and abide
And trust those we love to find
Their way, in their time