Missing Nothing

I made room

Expanded

Fit love into sun filled mornings

Woodland walks

Midnight songs

Moonlit rambles

Between times so full

I never stopped

No need to stop

No lack therein

Nothing missing

Like water carving out the rock

Like earthquakes opening the ground

Like giving away things no longer used

I made room

Now I am open and not full

Of the light that used to shine

I turn under the silver moon

Slowly under a slivered shard

Of what had been robust and

Bright

To myself I am returned

Missing nothing

But that song

That shimmering glow

Just salty rivers running muddy

From these eyes down to the sea

I walk these sandy shores again

Under the stars

Just me

northern lights over mountain and forest
Photo by Mohan Reddy on Pexels.com

Behind the Song: Bottle of the Blues

I wrote this song thinking of the line from Gotye’s Somebody That I Used to Know that goes “You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness,” and how even so, we seek out love and connection with others.

“Like resignation to the end, always the end”

Gotye’s song is, of course, beautiful and sad, and poignant, about endings and final words to lovers beyond our reach.

As Rosalie once said of Bottle of the Blues, “This is a kind of mood.”

Perhaps the addiction is to a darker shade of sadness, one with brittle cracks, and jagged edges.

It’s about beginnings, and connection even in the midst of pain and suffering.

This is a kind of mood, and not everyone will understand.

For those who do, I’m sorry.

Lyrics here