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A Poem for the Grieving: Listen

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LISTEN

When I ask you to listen to me
and you start to give me advice
you have not done what I asked.

 

When I ask you to listen to me
And you begin to tell me why
I shouldn’t feel that way
You are trampling on my feelings.

 

When I ask you to listen to me
And you feel you have to
Do something to solve my problem
You have failed me,
Strange as that may seem.

 

Listen!
All I asked was that you listen,
Not talk or do—just hear me.

 

Advice is cheap; you can get both from
Dear Abby and Billy Graham
In the same newspaper.

 

And I can do for myself;
I’m not helpless.
Maybe discouraged and faltering,
But not helpless.

 

When you do something for me that
I can and need to do for myself,
You contribute to my fear
And weakness.

 

But, when you accept as a simple
Fact that I do feel what I feel,
No matter how irrational,
Then I can quit trying to convince
You and can get about the business
Of understanding what’s
Behind this irrational feeling.

 

And when that’s clear,
The answers are obvious
And I don’t need advice.

 

Irrational feelings make sense
When we understand
What’s behind them.

 

And, if you want to talk,
Wait a minute for your turn;
And I’ll listen to you.

 

By Community Notes. The Foundation for Community Encouragement, Knoxville, TN, Vol.6.,No.3, Fall
1990.
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