Tears
I have found a river flowing
Down a hill
But never showing
That it’s made of all my tears.
Sorrow now is in this mountain.
Howling winds and broken fountains.
Lightning strikes
And I will fall.
Lonely people,
Lonely places
Trying to hide
Their life’s disgraces.
Their deepest desire
Not yet filled…
Greed fills their heart
And they are all alone.
Sitting on a bench,
Watching the grass grow.
Wanting more,
Even if they have it all.
People say that joy is
Easy to find…
But if that is true,
Why would the world be
What it is today?
This poem originally appeared in Deep Times: A Journal of The Work That Reconnects Vol. 9 Issue 2 – September 2024. It is shared here under Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-ShareAlike 4.0.
