Streams of Comfort

This month has been filled with unexpected highs and lows. Mostly lows, for me. This poem is an exploration of what lies at the heart of a teardrop and a reminder that even in our suffering, God is with us.

What’s in a teardrop but everything that overwhelms?
That unhappy surprise, that pain dancing in the window of your eyes.
What’s in a teardrop but everything that stays?
That last word in a forgotten argument, that slamming door that echoes in your ears for years to come.
They say it’s temporary.
The wells in your eyes cannot flow forever.
But those same people are not plagued by the same source of water.
They do not see the devastating, seemingly eternal struggle to not drown in that dark water.
The Lord says it’s temporary.
He will wipe away every tear.
The same God that has held every tear and has heard every cry.
The One who has walked through the same turbulent waters.
What’s in a teardrop but everything that sustains?
That which reminds us that we are physical bodies driven by a human soul, that which reminds us that we are not home yet.
What’s in a teardrop but everything that cleans?
That remnant of the turbid waters, that glass that allows us to truly see.
Alice R, 3/18/24