Tears

I didn't cry today. I haven't cried in weeks. The dried riverbed of my tears have eroded and cracked. The life that flourished on the salty moisture of my life has migrated and stolen away.

The twisting, turning, journey of my waterways no longer echoes with the sound rippling fluidity. The stand of trees turn brown their leaves. The green grass no longer grows tall in the wind.

No longer the circle of life that lived in and off of the life of the river. The breeze turned dry. The pollen turned dust. The flowers turned away. No longer the splash. Now only the dusty tracks of my tears.

This is the dawn of get over it. This is the crucible of the furnace. The dead time between joy and pain. The time when the black hole of a dark soul evaporates and releases its burst of Stillness.

Can anything be more frightening? Can any uncertainty end in more of a question mark? To dance emotion on the blade of a knife. The river of tears has passed. And all of the universe rests in stillness till the next turn of the wheel.

I didn't cry today. I haven't cried in weeks.