Poetry Sunday

Tears

Like icy clouds that form in the sky,
drops of pain creep from my eye.

Weightless they form a fluid stream;

life has forced a layered seam.

Tears are like capsules, of liquid release.

Hidden by lids they secretly cease.

The eye a doorway of repressed emotion

that drops a brew of poisoned potion.

Salty tears run evermore

softly sounds pound the floor.

Dripping echoes of seated pain;

seeping slowly a fluid rain.

The tear is weightless in its stand.

Lapping forth like waves on sand.

Going alone down the wrinkled aisle,

seeking to ride the sorrowful mile.

What will stop this rippling river?

Depths of joy I must deliver.

I raise my eyes to the skies above,

my tears become His kiss of love.