Sorrow  

I am walking sure-footed, 

Thinking of sorrow. 

Light, holy feeling of infinity  

Weighty with memory and past 

Pains’ grace and comfort. 

Tired determination  

To trudge home like an expert, 

The expert I am, in sorrow. 

Travels, down this only now road, 

Take sorrow through the brush  

Of survival, 

Terrain unexpected; 

Though remotely resembled 

To be a part of life, 

As someone said, but did not know mine. 

I did not break an ankle, 

God spared me that time. 

I mark the tally on the wall. 

Strong foot; maybe I am 

On the terrain of the wise 

The dragging in my torso, 

The weighing on my head, 

Yet feels on fire, 

I tally another step. 

Sorrow. 

The credit of Love. 

It’s courage to had let it 

Take over, 

Lingering for as long as I’d like it to, 

Reminding me of what I wanted, 

Incompletions only stamped  

By the terrain of the next step. 

If sorrow be sizable  

As the hole in my chest,  

As the weep at my breast 

As the infinite best, 

Letting love take over 

Is the much needed mistake  

The saints became saints for 

And the stains remain sent for.