Poems which are tears

I've heard poems as tears.

They fell from hearts broken,
too stricken to mend without
a voice.

They coursed through the body
felt in each cell
as a wailing forth of grief.

There is no denying
what even cannot be faced,
for the release must flow.

Deeper in the channel
the tears were caught,
mired in the sorrow.

Clutching at the words
swirling in the eddying pools
of why and what-ifs,
the poems took form.

Tossed as lifelines;
rooted in memories
and reaching toward the Light,
aching to bloom again,

the
poems
dropped
distilled
upon the page.

mj

*dedicated to our dear kmbhai 2.6.18