Sadness
She Will Not Be Quiet: A (mostly unedited) daily writing practice
Jotting from my journal. Day #145 of (mostly unedited) daily writing/sharing
Sadness
I stand in my safe, safe kitchen and sip coffee, sip the moment, sip the sadness that sits heavy. Sadness for each hungry child, for the man who wanders the streets of this small town, talking aloud to no one, or maybe to all of the scared and scattered parts of himself. Sadness for the ones who walk past, but do not notice, the yellow poppies growing wildly on the river's shore. Sadness for the person who set out for a fun summer day on the river yesterday, but didn't make it to today, sadness for the friends and family who don't get to laugh with him ever again. Sadness for the displaced, the lonely, for the ones who can't can't can't escape war, or fires, or floods, or their own tragically-troubled minds. Sadness for the ones who don't pause long enough to notice the wild poppies, who don't tend to the sadness that sits heavy inside, for the ones who start wars because it is easier than turning to face themselves.
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"Sadness for the ones who don't pause
long enough to notice the wild poppies, who don't tend to the sadness that sits heavy inside..."
These words resonate deeply, Julia.