Poetic Melancholies

What is it about our melancholic states that brings out the most creative poetry of words we love?

Is it due to the quiet introspection that gives us time to think of such words of the heart and soul?

Is it the fevered bursts of inspiration, driven by a muse that feeds on our own turbulent emotions?

Or is it simply just a single moment of enlightenment in our lives that allows us to grasp the beauty of truth that is shared by all our kin, when we ourselves walk in the dark?

When words that are meant to echo our own despair translate into powerful images of our heart and soul, it is one thing to dwell on the feelings of those heart wrenching moments; it is quite another to form bonds with whomever is touched by those powerful images. In our desperate cry for redemption and salvation, we may not have the wisdom of the moment to find our way out of that darkness.

But cries have a funny way of reaching those that would only understand too well the wisdom we need. In those moments, your poetry becomes our candle in the night. In those moments, we are drawn to the warmth of your tears and the beating of your shattered heart. In those moments, we are your friends and we are here to stand by you in the night, at least until that dawn comes.

As it always does, one day at a time.

3 thoughts on “Poetic Melancholies

  1. Ah… so this the post in question. I see why you thought as such. It’s beautifully done, which goes to show the type of sentiments they trigger. Happiness on its own is a lot harder to express in words.

  2. I hate that I’m inspired (to write) by melancholy. It’s getting better now that I have less and less free time to let my mind wander and reflect on what once was.

  3. Cléa: I don’t know if happiness is a lot harder to express in words. It’s just that I know people who can put it so well, you’re one of them. I just never learned to express my own joys just as well. Maybe it’s a lifestyle reflection thing. We’re used to what we do best. When we see the world that way, it becomes easier for us to turn it into art.

    Almost Loved: There is a difference between dwelling on that melancholy and simply writing about and moving on. Maybe that’s the beauty of blogs. We write and we move on. Sadness or not. It’s a reason to not look back.

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