The Last Tear

If this were the last tear that would fall upon my face
Would you catch it and spill it into your distant heart?
Could it wash away our sins and make us whole again?
Time and weary days of inconsistent light and dark
Have drained the earth in our garden bluish green
Where moss has grown prolific with spider’s nest
Crushed beneath the feet of sorry traveler
I’ve called the tears to come, for they can set us free
But vanquished tear ducts only produce saw dust
Where are the tears, they do not flow any longer
Now that they have dried to desert bloomed cactus
Stillness now and quiet hollow is all that can be traced
It was all that was left of the rolling river in our life
If the tears could come, feelings could still be made
They could be dropped into a wine bottle for taste
But even they have gone away, disappeared into a grave
Dry and brittle our hearts barely beat with each other
Saddened am I, but now hoping that tears could fall
Cracking our fragile nobility into human life form again
Blooms from yesterday, petals petrified at our feet
Stillness lingers here, and you and I just quietly wait
Waiting to see if we can save the almost dead tree

Posted in Poetry

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