This poem, organized by Kubler’s stages of grief, describes the signs of grief we see as healthcare providers contrasted to what those who are grieving feel. What is displayed as a sign of grief is depicted in the first stanza of each section. The second stanza brings to life what the observed person feels from the symptoms of grief. The section concludes with a third stanza depicting the transition to grief’s next stage. The signs we see that those who are grieving feel – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance – are abstractly represented as processes in the brain in the multimedia artwork. Denial is depicted as blue “shock” waves outlining an empty brain which is contrasted to the boiling anger originating from the center of the fiery brain. Bargaining is positioned at the bottom as “wheels turning,” representing the sufferer thinking of questions and ideas. Gray, fuzzy static fills the brain of depression – in sharp contrast to the other colorful emotions. Acceptance, a conglomerate brain filled with the combination of colors from the other stages of grief, is depicted as a metamorphosis with caterpillars housed in the cerebellum transforming into butterflies in the cortex. 

Denial
I see the shock vibrate as it moves over her face;
She did not know he only had days.
Eyebrows framing empty eyes and a slender pursing of the lips.
And now her fingernails dig into her soft hips.

The doctor must see the shock on my face,
But I only feel this must be a pure mistake.
What is it like to feel completely numb?
This cannot happen to me; I am unfairly stunned.

Denial is the friend of the unlucky idealist.
Subtle in what you see,
But painful as the recipient.
It only shows itself in mild ways,
Until it transforms into anger as emotions decay

Anger
I see the froth at the corner of her lips,
And her face transforms to the color of sunburnt skin.
The fingers unlatch from the ripped flesh on her hips, And I watch her breathe at twenty-four breaths per minute.

The people around me must see the anger I feel,
But this raging storm clouds my vision of them.
How I could strangle this fate that kills.
My anger is something I even strongly condemn.

As we sit and watch adrenaline surge,
Anger boils in her soul, ready to be purged.
We sit and wonder if we can take away what she feels,
As she wonders if she can cunningly strike a deal.

Bargaining
Tears form rivers in her eyes and waterfalls on her cheeks.
Her brows are now furrowed, framing the sad eyes of grief.
I see her mouth open and hear audible sobs,
As she holds her deceased loved one close in her arms.

The doctor grasps my shoulder in a tender embrace,
As I know she sees the feelings of torment engulfing this horrid state.
I ask God if I may I trade my life for the sake of his,
Or if I could save him from this dark abyss.

A bargain may seem irrational to the observer,
But it is the last sliver of hope before the grief grows older.
We only see the tears of unanswered wishes
Before the sorrow turns into mental submission.

Depression
It has been a few months since I have seen her now sallow, gaunt face.
Her bones protrude from the weight that she has lost on her frame.
She walks at a slow pace and speaks in monotone mumbles.
There are bags under her eyes; her mind is jumbled.

I see a face I recognize, and I give all my might.
But I cannot concentrate on anything else in sight.
I thought I felt numb when I was in denial,
But now my brain buzzes with incoherent static – this is my hardest trial.
I feel an emptiness that describes the color gray.
Does my feigned smile shroud my dismay?

A deep depression is the unending stage of grief.
The presence of the lost haunting the happy spirit of relief.
When the timing is perfected and a warm light begins to bloom, That is when acceptance grows to overtake every corner of gloom. 

Acceptance
It has been a few months since I saw the sallow, gaunt face.
I almost do not recognize the glow – a smile that radiates.
It is hard to see acceptance from the objective outside.
It looks different depending on the person in which it abides.
It is an airiness originating from the absence of a monstrous weight.
I was happy to see that she had come into a fresh, joyous state.

I see her now and remember her hand on my shoulder.
My grief has matured into an acceptance from a wave that was much colder.
I feel grounded, humbled, and paradoxically blessed
That I have been able to hold onto my memories and still feel at rest.

Acceptance is unexpected from a seemingly impossible process.
It protects the person from which it was fostered.
An observer can see grief eat someone away,
Only to reveal a beautiful metamorphosis at play.
And for the person that feels each stage of affliction,
A memory is cherished and grief is transformed into a positive benediction.