HEVEL: Poems on Grief, Loss, and the God Who Remains

Drawn from the ancient wisdom of Ecclesiastes, these poems move through loss not as a problem to be solved, but as a landscape to be walked. Slowly. With open hands.

There is a word the ancient teacher used more than any other.
Hevel. In Hebrew — breath. Vapor.
The thing that rises and disappears before you fully understand what you were watching. Life is like that.

These poems look directly at what most of us look away from.

Several poems in this collection are drawn from the author's personal experience of losing his mother.

This is not a book about getting over grief.
It is a book about the God who remains present despite the pain within it.

For the mourner who has run out of words. For the believer sitting in the tension between faith and sorrow. For anyone who has stood at the edge of an irreversible loss and felt the ground shift beneath them.

Hevel was written for you.

Twenty-one poems. One long exhale. A faith that does not flinch from the dark.
Read it slowly. Let it find you where you are.