In whispers of sorrow, I write and I sing,
As the world watches me pondering intangible things.
The woman I call mother, with soft, worried eyes,
She wonders aloud why my heart only cries.
My children inquire why my melodies play,
With a weight of sadness ebbing night and day.
Friends and strangers alike ponder my way,
Why shadows in my verses seem always to stay.
I never questioned the wellspring of my art,
Till one quiet evening, I paused and took it all to heart.
I looked at the poems, the songs, and the refrain,
To grasp the core of my soul's deep-seated pain.
Life, so fleeting, a whisper, a sigh,
It slips through our grasp as the years rush by.
This impermanence grieves me, it tugs at my soul,
Leaving a void that no joy can console.
I feel profoundly with my senses aflame,
Emotions like torrents so wild and untamed.
A burden, a blessing, this depth that I bear,
To feel is to live, to love, and to care.
So I channel this torrent into lyrical streams,
Pouring my soul into words and piled up dreams.
In the rise and the fall of music's embrace,
I find a mirror reflecting my face.
The notes they ascend, then gently descend,
Echoing heartbeats that never quite mend.
Each melody a map of my inner terrain,
Tracing the contours of joy and of pain.
Sometimes these feelings softly puzzle my mind,
A symphony of heartache so delicately intertwined.
But in rare moments of clarity's dawn,
A masterpiece emerges is my soul rebor?
A part of my brokenness finds solace and peace,
In harmonies crafted and in verses' release.
For someone, somewhere, wrote with a heart like mine,
And their music resonates through the corridors of time.
Their melodies meet me where my sorrows reside,
And suddenly, I'm not alone in the tide.
Their notes become lifelines oh, their lyrics a balm,
Mending my wounds with a quiet and healing calm.
To dwell on the sad is to honor what's true,
To embrace every wound and to feel through and through.
For in shadows the light always finds its way,
Balancing night into the grace of the day.
So to those who ponder why my art is so blue,
Know that through sorrow, I seek what is true.
I dwell on the sad not out of despair,
But to uncover the beauty that is deeply hidden there.
In each mournful song and each melancholy line,
I find a shard of the divine design.
A testament to life's fleeting grace,
A reminder that in sorrow, joy finds its place.
And as I write and as I sing,
I weave a golden memory of everything.
The sorrow, the joy, the transient gleam,
All part of this life's brief yet beautiful dream.
For to feel deeply is a gift, not a curse,
It enriches my spirit and it strengthens my verse.
In the sad songs and poems, I find my way,
Turning the darkest night into the brightest day.
-aubs
July 20, 2024
In this poem, I’ve poured out the essence of my soul—a deep reflection of the emotions that pulse through me every day. I write and sing not simply to create, but because these are the outlets that allow me to navigate the immense emotional weight I carry. My mother, my children, even friends and strangers—each wonders why sorrow seems to linger in the corners of my art. This poem is an answer to them, and perhaps to myself.
I’ve often questioned why sadness runs so deeply in my work, and in a quiet moment of reflection, I realized it’s not sadness for sadness’ sake. It’s an acknowledgment of life’s impermanence, of the fleeting beauty that both grieves and inspires me. My emotions, raw and unfiltered, swirl like wild torrents, sometimes overwhelming, but always real.
In these melancholic verses, I find solace. They are not a rejection of joy, but an embrace of the full spectrum of human experience. Through sadness, I honor the truth of life—its fragility, its grace. And in turning my sorrow into song, I discover the beauty hidden within, transforming darkness into light and crafting a testament to the delicate balance between joy and pain.
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