Miraculous sorrow
“What a miraculous sorrow that is.”
"If there is one thing one can always yearn for and sometimes attain, it is human love." - Albert Camus
Tonight,
the moon hangs low and lonesome,
a pearl left behind
by some absent-minded god.
This beautiful affliction.
To miss someone
with such exquisite consistency.
To carry their absence
like a second heartbeat.
My soul is standing barefoot
at the edge of some invisible cliff,
listening for your voice
inside the wind.
Tonight,
missing you feels less like an emotion
and more like a landscape.
A long lavender valley
beneath a moon made of milk glass.
A field of silver grass
bowing and bowing
to a wind that never arrives.
You have become threaded
through everything.
The steam rising from coffee.
The lavender hush of twilight.
The velvet blue hour
when the sky resembles a bruise
slowly healing.
I find traces of you everywhere.
Not because you are there.
Because longing is an artist.
Love is a counterfeiter.
My heart keeps forging your likeness
onto every beautiful thing.
It seems impossible
that there are nights
when the moon sees us both
and still cannot bring us closer.
How extravagant of the universe.
How cruelly beautiful.
There is a particular grief
in loving someone
who exists beneath the same moon
yet beyond your reach.
What a miraculous sorrow that is.
And so tonight
I will sit beside the open window
and let the moonlight gather around me.
I will let the ache arrive.
Four days. Yet, I miss you.
This poem was so soft and vivid. Absolutely in love with the scenery descriptions and words like "milk" and "velvet" being used. It's such a pleasure to read aloud