Deep Sorrow Is A Whirlpool
Deep Sorrow is a whirlpool or a bucket of ice-cold water.
Except, instead of feeling the bucket’s water pouring on my skin
I feel instead the icy shock from somewhere deep within.
Then it disappears just as suddenly
Before returning in waves
Like a tsunami.
When the tsunami hits, I feel like my inner being
Was drawn…no…sucked into a vortex
Devoid of life-giving air.
Outwardly I’m still breathing
Still living. Still holding on. But
Inside, there’s a sudden hollowing out.
Because the dam inside me, that held
All my oxygen and tears together
Suddenly broke like a Ming vase onto the floor
I am plunged headlong
Into a swirling whirlpool
Spinning me harder than my washer could.
Then just as quickly the moment’s
Gone. Vanished. Nowhere to be felt
Or so Deep Sorrow would have me believe.
In fact, it’s just lurking in the background
Waiting for a chance to pounce. Again.
On another unexpecting moment of my day.
The question for me, eternally has been
When. Will. The. Sorrow. Go?
When. Will. The. Whirlpool. Stop?
