Gazing through the sunroom glass
To the fog resting amidst the treetops,
And feeling the tender melancholy of rain
Tapping softly on the roof above
A seed planted in her mind,
The tiniest notion, growing in importance,
That melancholy, a dear friend in times of darkness,
Is perhaps not simply sadness but instead (or in addition to)
The state of mind just before a breakthrough,
That moment when all seems lost and hopeless
And staring out the window seems the logical state of things,
But then, through some kind of miracle,
Or twist of fate,
The fog lifts,
And there between the rain-heavy branches
Remains only space,
Where the light is dim and eerie
Yet possesses a familiar longing,
A hollowing out of the places inside
Which call to be filled

And in that space she pauses,
While joy and sadness compete for her affections,
She’d like to stay there a while
Yet she must go,
For on the other side of the fog
Discovery whispers her name

©SpiritLed 2019