ODE TO SORROW
By John Herlihy

I
Consider for a moment the beginning of sorrow.

A wet, wind-swept night opens on a melancholy tomorrow,
Emptying my pitiful heart of its essential marrow.
This human emotion doesn’t feel quite right;
The devil’s shadow fallen upon us just for spite.
Anger, revenge, misery, and even regret,
All have their moments that pass and we then forget;
Sorrow lingers for a while and nothing seems right;
Lingers beyond its appointed time, reluctant to take flight.

II
Consider for a moment the universality of sorrow.

Our inner world at times empties of any true gladness.
Our inborn humanity knows the meaning of sadness.
We reach out and strive for feelings of well-earned joy;
But our emotions are thrown around like a child’s toy.
Muddy rivers flow through the heart of personal trauma;
Sluggish thoughts orbit around our mind in a silent comma;
Sorrow touches us with the wand of an evil fairy godmother,
Winding tendril s round our hearts our feelings to smother.

III
Consider for a moment the individuality of sorrow.

Sorrow is universal; but its mood is unique and individual,
We find ourselves totally alone keeping a lonely vigil.
We all suffer what our personal destiny has in store,
Something to experience that lays us flat on the floor.
The causes of sorrow are but momentary and brief;
But the sad aftermath can flourish with loneliness and grief.
Sorrow is contagious; it affects others in unexpected ways.
A person suffers the trauma of loss; the true friend also pays.

IV
Consider for a moment the artifacts of sorrow.

Sadness tolls with the somberness of an old church bell,
Echoing across the village rooftops with a funereal knell.
Across the plain howls the lament of the lone wolf,
Serenading a pale moon with the psalms of an unhappy soul.
It is enough to know that wolves howl and candles glow.
We all see twilight fall and hear church bells toll.
The ancient cathedral awakens the worshippers to a moody gloom,
Even flowers can sometimes project an aura of mournful doom.

V
Consider for a moment the humanity of sorrow.

Sadness induces tears; they come of their own volition.
The body seems to know without having to make a decision.
Tears don’t go far enough; they express the surface of sorrow,
Strange feelings from an alien world that invade tomorrow.
The hot tears feel cool to the touch, a soothing balm;
They fall down to invade the lifeline on the map of your palm.
Sometimes the appearance of sorrow calls forth no tears,
A dry feeling of the desert seizes us with hopeless fears.

VI
Consider for a moment the end of sorrow.

Sorrow leaves a mark that doesn’t wither with time,
Indelible on the psyche and as fragrant as aged wine.
Next week, next month, today or perhaps tomorrow,
The thought of our final leave taking induces sorrow.
Writing a poem about sorrow creates feelings of sadness;
Let us shake off the sensation and reach out for gladness.
Whether it be universality, individuality, or our basic humanity.
The emotion of sorrow inspires us to search for the Divinity.