In the wake of loss, where does grief find its voice? Ten years ago Maria Bailey painted one canvas each day for 28 days following her miscarriage, each accompanied by brief words born from raw emotion. A decade later, she returns to these black and white paintings, allowing them to speak across time.
This collection maps the landscape of grief and healing through poems that embrace both the intimate devastation of loss and the profound transformation that follows. From the disorienting moment when "out of the blue, a detour appears in every direction," to the quiet revelation that "we all come and go like silver streams in the grace of all movement," Bailey's journey unfolds like the moon's phases—darkness giving way to light, absence revealing presence.
Through her unique creative process of revisiting each painting as a koan—touching, listening, waiting—Bailey discovers that time hasn't diminished her connection to this experience but deepened it. These poems honor the sacred conversation between past and present selves, offering readers a meditation on how loss shapes us and ultimately reveals unexpected gifts of understanding and grace.