sharing poetry again!!!!!

okay guyss and galz and the non-binary palzz, ive got more to share today!!

okayokay so before i forget, this comes from the masterful work of Mark Z. Danielewski (i hope i got that name right... lol) in his first ever publish, House of Leaves.
its honestly quite a popular book that i think sometimes gets looked over for its really, REALLY masterful small sections of art. Sure, one might call the book satire or one not meant to be taken literally, but i believe those people to be a little... near sighted, so to speak. Danielewski purposefully made the book hard to read - that is indeed where half of the story of House of Leaves lie, and while that idea itself is honestly really interesting to me, i think it's also equally as fun to look at some of the smaller parts of just pure moments this book can make

anyways, enough rambling, if i am a bit misguided here, do forgive me, i am quite tired while writing this
anyways anyways! poem time

Little solace comes
to those who grieve
when thoughts keep drifting
as walls keep shifting
and this great blue world of ours
seems a house of leaves

moments before the wind.

so as i said, this is a popular book so i will actually avoid all connection to the book and look at this as a pure poem-like artsy investigation. 

solace (verb) is to give comfort, to console. And this poem explains that little comfort is given to those who grieve.
We start with a heavy topic, one that is probably never really thought of. The idea that when sitting on the subway, taking a bus ride, standing in line, the person next to you might be dealing with one of the worst losses of their life, but they dont say anything.
Now, obviously it would be awkward to go up to strangers and say "im sorry for your loss", which... well is exactly why that doesn't happen. Some people going trough loss that dont have many connections definitely and understandably might feel the world doesn't care about their loss. it can be hard to move on from a moment and watch cars pass by, people laugh and see the ugly advertisements on the sign when all you can think about is loss. its a very heavy, albeit common feeling. 
this is where the "when thoughts keep drifting, as walls keep shifting" come into play. the world doesn't change when this loss happens, those cars still pass along, those group of people enjoying their dinnner outside still laugh, that stupid advertisement selling their really bad tasting drink? yep. still there.

"and this great blue world of ours, seems a house of leaves, moments before the wind"

this blue world of ours. This world of ours that is sad, but hides it. "I believe in a universe that doesn't care, and in people who do" idea.
the house, your house, your shelter, you yourself. you are your own world, you are that "blue" world in this time of loss. 
and the slightest gust of wind can knock you over, because in this time, you are made of those fragile trees. 

however, always remember, while sure, trees do grow back slowly, the look beautiful when they are fully grown, they are strong, and they give shade.

thank you for the long reading, i hope that poetry can give you some light of day :)