Another crazy backwards truth

Tears,
The soft fall of salted water on my cheek
Refreshes the barren hole within me -
That darkness I hide, hide from others,
Hide from me.
They fill it up, like air rushing in to lungs
After holding your breath through a tunnel.
Empty, dark, and lonely, the hole suddenly springs to
Life - burping and gulping, grasping at any and every
Drop, starved for nourishment.
Destined to grow, the hole now shrinks. Not shut, not gone,
But noticeably, there is quiet change.
These tears -magic? - find every nook and closed off
Room, sweeping them clean. In sadness opened, we find our way.
Through the putrid depths of dark caves, my soul takes flight.
That is, when we weep...
How can our souls drink, without tears?
Blessed are you who mourn...


A friend of mine can't cry. I wrote this poem as a prayer for her. May God give her the gift of tears.