I wake up every morning and watch the world falling apart around me. In some places it has already fallen apart, some places are bursting at the seems ready to become a complete disaster that other aspects of life are. The news is so depressing I try to avoid it. I am surrounded by certain optimistic and hopeful viewpoints which are admirable and noble but completely unrealistic. I know that polarized thinking like this is not at times fair but I think it is appropriate in this situation. People don’ write music and poetry, and books about everything being wonderful and happy all the time and there is a good reason for this. There is only one kind of happiness and no one I know has any problem dealing with happiness, they don’t fret over or sit and ponder happiness, they know exactly how to deal with it and don’t have an innate burning desire to understand it’s etiology, they just embrace and go with it, with little or no though. Now miser, Pain, happiness, despair, apathy, they all come in a million different flavors and varieties. Some of these things we a re able to deal with, but it requires effort, concentration, and focus. These are the thing that we tend to ponder. The traumatic horrible things that happen in our lives outnumber the happiness in my opinion and comprise a larger majority of who we are. The pain and the suffering are the things we tend to think about the most. It’s a lot like the news. No one cares if there wasn’t a fatal accident on state highway 31 today. They’d never report it because no one cares. If the opposite were true people would be interested, give us dirty laundry, we all know that crap is king. In order for me to be happy I have to understand my misery and the trauma in my life. Some self created, some imposed on me by forces beyond my control, but I must ponder it, understand it and accept it which requires far more time and energy than accepting and coping with the one happiness. Having said my piece, this is called Sorrow.

The sweet smell of a great sorrow lies over the land
Plumes of smoke rise and merge into the leaden sky:
A man lies and dreams of green fields and rivers,
But awakes to a morning with no reason for waking

He's haunted by the memory of a lost paradise
In his youth or a dream, he can't be precise
He's chained forever to a world that's departed
It's not enough, it's not enough

His blood has frozen & curdled with fright
His knees have trembled & given way in the night
His hand has weakened at the moment of truth
His step has faltered

One world, one soul
Time pass, the river rolls

It's not enough it's not enough
His hand has faltered
.... .... ......

And he talks to the river of lost love and dedication
And silent replies that swirl invitation
Flow dark and troubled to an oily sea
A grim intimation of what is to be

There's an unceasing wind that blows through this night
And there's dust in my eyes, that blinds my sight
And silence that speaks so much louder that words,
Of promises broken