A Loon Cries

There is a deep sadness -
a cello in the heart -
that plays, and plays, and
plays itself out -
a river of tears
and woes
without end.

There is a note of sadness
even in the most
joyous moment.
It is all that distance. It
is the sadness of moving
away - of separation.
It is the recognition of
contraction, of making
the invisible
visible.

A loon cries and wails
its call of love across
the surface of the waters and
we, somehow, cock our heads
to the side and feel the
space open in the top
of our heart and we feel
a sad joy. The water there
is dark and the moon, the
moon is bright and full.