Living in grief is like being in a dark forest, the tall trees are all around
The mist rises up and spreads over everything to shroud the ground.

Filtering and diffusing the little bit of light
Hiding the details and inhabiting the night

Knowing that the forest is still very green
Although thoughts and sorrows hinder what is seen.

Off in the distance some clear view emerges
A crisp open view the sun warms and sorrow purges

There was joy in this forest as there is in the distance
Both places have meaning and form my existence.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 01/17/14