I Am the Sorrow

Some days I do not just feel sorrow
Some days I am the sorrow
I am the grey sky
That threatens spitting snow
I am the heaviness in your limbs
Your shuffling gait
Reluctance to get
Where you are expected

Some days
I am the sorrow
The stark, leafless, skeletal
Branches of the trees
Dwelling in the in-between
Of not quite late autumn
Not quite early winter
That borderline of the seasons
When light is dwindling
And the darkness grows

Some days
I am the wistfulness
That longing for your younger self
When time stretched endlessly
Before you
The world full of possibility
And the crisp taste of golden fruit

Some days
I am the very ache in your chest
That you feel
When you despair of ever
Finding your soul mate
Who must be out there wandering
In this same twilight
Desperately longing

To find you

SOME DAYS I AM THE SORROW