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SADNESS SITS...
Sadness sits like a big cat
staring into a pool waiting for the fish
to circle close to the surface.
Like the fish beneath that surface
just out of reach
my fears and grief
circle around and
around and
cannot be grasped.
Glimpsed only,
glistening
in the sunlight piecing through
the water,
avoiding the cat,
hiding under
the rocks of rage
over which
the tears of it all
pour.
The years of it all
wear
the surface of those rocks,
soften their edges,
cause little holes to
appear
to let more water through -
more sunlight pierce its way
in -
more grief escapes
circling closer and nearer to the surface
where the cat waits.
The cat
the fish
the pool
the rocks.
It is all one.
No wonder it spills out and out
at unexpected
and engulfingly
uncontrollable
moments
and times and more
and more often.
Until the cat will reach her paw in
to the pool
and bring out one of the glistening fish -
a tear in her hand -
and bring it to her soft mouth
and lick in into her big belly
and the pool will be slowly emptied of all tears
and the rocks will evaporate
and the cat will contain
the sadness
waiting by the pool,
watching the fish.
The pool is never really empty.
The fish will always come back.
The cat will be there to drink them in.
The sadness has a home.
It does not have to burst its banks
in one huge, wet, endless, muddy flood
and drown me.
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