Grief looks like a windswept dune, sand grains pausing then stinging as they are blown first in one direction then another. Sometimes the pattern changes so fast; sometimes it lingers for far too long.
Grief is the chill wind, unexpected after a first warm day at the beginning of spring, blowing away the promise of comfort, hope unachieved then found anew.
Grief is the journey, full of sorrow with moments of grace and hope. Traveling mercies.