This is a poem about the heaviness of world issues, the weight of the world’s problems, and a world in sadness. Feel what you feel, ask hard questions, and keep going.
Sadness has swallowed my words and clouded my vision. My world feels gray and wet colorless and drippy like a runny nose. We all feel it. The whole world is under a dark cloud these days. Sadness seeps deep into the cracks of every city, rolls into the folds of the rural landscapes. How long must we sit in heaviness oppressed and distressed the feathers of hope camouflaged in the gray? If we reach out hands stretched blindly sweeping back and forth as we plod through the mist, would we touch the hidden glory? Could we bump into solid rocks and cling to them awhile? Can we find each other in darkness? Maybe we can breathe in bits of joy. Would we feel the healing balm, the oil of gladness in the middle of all the smoke and mirrors? What would make everything right again?