Sorrow is profound, I immerse myself.
Sorrow is melancholy; still I do not quite break through the surface.
It is quiet here, it is silent.
I can finally think, breathe, feel.
Sorrow is bitter, harsh, consuming.
I will not sink but hold it, hold it in my very chest,
Let it feel me, just for today, just for this moment, just for now.
Because life isn’t fair, it isn’t whole, it isn’t just. It is interrupted.
There are tears and the threads will dangle and you will trip.
But life is flexible, free, joyous, precious.
Find in it the quiet hours of the morning in the moments you are together, with somebody.
The cold clutches my shoulders, but I ignore it because I am content.
After all this time I finally feel okay.
Even though I feel sorrow, and sadness and anger, I embrace them.
I feel them until this sentiment has changed into appreciation, love and heart.
So what is sorrow now?