Dysprositos

Tears

It's hard to understand God's gift of tears.
For we who weep must surely think,
Despite their healing comfort, still,
Wouldn't it be the better thing
To hold back both the illness and the pill?

God says no. As with every joy on earth, Sorrow's bandage incompletes a wreath Whose perimeter cannot be chalked within the lifespan of a man.

So also with delight, desire, Homesickness, hearth and health; All of what we know as sadness Is portion of some bigger thing Whose furthest end we have not seen.

All together they comprise the thinnest part; The stoney beach beside an ocean Which also crashes on other shores Whose tectonic moorings also radiate Their sureness to the turf beneath our feet.

We are already in that world. We see the sea as separation; It is but one more tear beside these ones that fall into the sand. And here, for now, God's gift: A little water, the horizon, and his hand.