Sadness settles in like a ground fog.
It penetrates all the little cracks and crevices. It clings to the surfaces and forms drops. When the drops fall, they become tears.
I know not why I cry, only that I have a deep sadness.
Maybe it’s a deep longing of dreams unfulfilled. Maybe it’s a fleeting memory of a friend long ago passed away. Maybe it’s just a general mysterious melancholy.
The sadness permeates the heart and the soul and radiates outward, creating a kind of a blanket around me. It reminds me of lying in the middle a forest clearing at night on a full moon with the mist hovering right above the ground. It glows in the moonlight. An owl hoots in the distance. I do not mind being sad. It is not something I frequently feel. I treasure this fleeting moment as a gift. Soon the sun will come up, and the mist will evaporate.
Dean Robertson 2022 (Initiated man from Illuman of Washington)