Sorrow is not purely sadness or grief, or agony or despair. The feeling is akin to yearning, yet it is also hopeful — a loss breeding a desire for the joys of the past, yet it is expectant for the fruit of the future.
It is the feeling of a child as he walks through a meadow and suddenly comes upon a greyish, white dandelion. The child stops and kneels. Gently, he clasps the stem at the flower’s base and carefully removes it from ground. On his knees, in quiet excitement and expectation, he blows the white seeds kindly into the air. He holds his breath as the seeds float delicately away while the sun ever so slightly casts their shadow away.
He peacefully exhales, filled, yet exhausted, from the thrill of their fluttering as they dance further and further toward the horizon. Almost out of sight, the dancing subsides and their final glance back catches the glisten in the boy’s eyes. He is stilled, fixed in fading reality of the dandelion’s waltz. He realizes – no more. They sink into the ground in the unfettered distance and reveal nothing more to him. His joy ceases, yet somehow remains.
He turns and walks into the sun, looking back but always moving forward. The joy of the next dandelion hopefully revealed by the shine of the sun above.
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