When sadness comes sit with her, invite her over to a cup of tea or coffee, or maybe just a little wine, resist your urge to escape from her by drowning her in some frantic activity, and rather hold her gently like you would your beloved wife, drown in her eyes all your sorrows, fears and anxieties, tell her what she already knows, your insomnias and terrors before a life devoid of affection, meaning or completion.
When sadness comes
sit with her, though she thumps
against your chest
like a wild horse being tamed,
gather up your strength and tell her
all that the harsh tides of life
have washed up inside your heart,
or just sit with her, in silence,
reading a book or listening
to a bird singing happy and unaware.
When sadness comes smile back to her, sadly, and offer her the dark rose of that void pulsing in your chest, and watch her take it, gladly, placing it delicately in her wildly waving hair.
When sadness comes welcome her, that lifelong friend loyal to a fold and intimate and tender, and know that all she asks of you is for you to tame her so that one day she may begin to tell you all the reasons for which she is your promise of love.
Long after you were gone I still went to bed
with your ghost every night, making love to nothing more than a memory, to my
need for you, to all the ways in which I dreamed you and constructed you in my
mind. I fashioned you out of light and poetry, out of pure passion, an unreal
being that I now had to let go, to let you fly and vanish amid the turning
stars. Now I let you go and deepen in this longing turning like a universe at
the center of my heart.