I hold the tears back. They well up in swollen lakes behind my eyes, in my throat and in my heart. If I let the tears fall I know they will fuzz my vision and weaken my resolve with their flood. So I must be strong.
Tears ask for surrender before they fall. And they will take any small silence as consent. So I speak loudly against tears, for if permission is granted, all control will be stripped away until I end up a sobbing mess on the floor of my spiritual reserve.
I can manage to hold the tears back, if I can still the flowing waters at the moment when they threaten to overflow, then I will see with great clarity the heart piercing truth of potential loss. I’ll see the sharp tongued scripted lines that should never be said, of scenes that should be never played out, of songs that should never be sung, in an angry production that should be shuttered. I shall feel the full prescence of destruction and the aftermath of loss and heart ache for things that cannot be taken back.
Tears sharpen my sight. They make it knife sharp. So be brave and see clearly dear ones, before loss crosses your path. Hang on tight to the ones you love with tears behind your eyes, so that their beauty may dwell evermore within you.
Please come back tomorrow for a new “Weed Image of the Day” and let me know which ones you like.
We and our weeds are so much more than what we first appear to be.
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