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.