The Salt of Sorrow

“Have salt in yourselves, 

and be at peace with one another.”

~Mark 9:50

“I saw grief drinking a cup of sorrow

and called out, ‘It tastes sweet, does it not?’

‘You’ve caught me,’ grief answered, 

‘and you’ve ruined my business. How

can I sell sorrow, when you know it’s

a blessing?’”

~Rumi

Sorrow is a salt, 

it flavors things. 

Better yet,

salt brings out 

the flavors

of the things

themselves.

It’s a taste that 

raises the bland 

to new heights. 

Salt endears

me to the world. 

It helps me

feel empathy. 

It provides 

context and scale

by its sheer

presence. 

It levels the field 

of my inner life,

disallowing me 

to become coarse 

or callow when 

life is good. 

When life is 

difficult, it

invigorates 

by preserving

the essence

of what I love

like an insect

in amber;

a lozenge

in the mouth

that sweetens

the world

by slowly 

dissolving.

Sorrow tenderizes

all it touches.

It acknowledges that

loss is the shadow

of gain, of

gifts that age.

It understands

all things pass

even as it

captures their essence

by enhancing

their capacity.

Sorrow, like salt,

came early,

a full moon

advancing stories.

The salt of sorrow

softened me

like a hide.

I can love

anything now

because I know 

that such grief

creates hunger 

for beauty

in the world.

March 31st, 2021