There are mountains hidden downstairs
in my grandpa's country house
with craggy granite boulders
no bigger than a mouse.
Little trees of twigs and moss
hug miniature ravines,
where
...
[+]
I have come to the creek
to lay down my grief
beside the trees whose roots
creep into the stone-laden water.
I can not sink my grief,
I tried for years
to climb into the ferocious sea
and drown my pain.
but the sea doesn't pick and choose,
I nearly drowned too.
So I take my mourning,
lay it beside me on the dirt
hoping it will sow something.
I can't lay all of it,
no,
I'll carry it until I see you again.
to lay down my grief
beside the trees whose roots
creep into the stone-laden water.
I can not sink my grief,
I tried for years
to climb into the ferocious sea
and drown my pain.
but the sea doesn't pick and choose,
I nearly drowned too.
So I take my mourning,
lay it beside me on the dirt
hoping it will sow something.
I can't lay all of it,
no,
I'll carry it until I see you again.