Tuesday, January 26, 2021

Tears

















The candles are crying waxen tears
        from their unseeing eyes—
Their little frames have 
        no hearts to break
no wound to bleed like mine


My own grief pools red and hot,
        or cools upon my cheek,
my waxen heart cannot feel
        unless it is this emptiness—
My loneliness none dares to break


Candles burn bright and
         candles burn low—
Grief and loneliness don't fill me
         they hollow out my feeling,
stealing life, their appetites grow


What can fill grief and sorrow,
          loneliness and death?
Their hunger growls and I diminish,
          their ache digs deep
to ravage my every breath—


Breath! Spirit of God poured out
           like melting wax—
Unlike water in the wilderness
           the Spirit is not swallowed—
He fills and heals each crack


Cracks in my soul that run
            deep and hungry ache,
He finds the bottom and
            fills the deep wells
making a pool of Beauty—a lake


A lake of salty tears
            that now reflects
the Light, the stars, the silver moon—
            and bathes the travellers' weary feet,
a gift, a healing they did not expect.




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