the silent ejaculation of the eye.
who can be a scribe for the tears story.
who brought them here.
ANd who is going to take them home.
who on this earth truly understands the tear.
understands the physical reaction to an emotional force.
No matter the man you cut,
He will always bleed.
But he will not always cry.
there is one that has a theory.
his truth is his own and he calls no one else to follow the path he walks.
He wonders if we knew of heaven. if we didn't rely on faith but truly new. if we would still cry when the people we loved died. How dare we be so selfish to cry at our own loss. they were never ours to lose in the first place.
And of those tears that tell a tale of joy, of laughter, of love. if it weren't for those tears this man would never have found his theory.
Perhaps tears are the symbol of being overwhelmed. Filled with so much joy that laughter does not suffice, and tears are the only way to release the happiness that will inevitably escape.
Perhaps its not in our design, our make, to understand grief, to know loss and death. Perhaps we were never meant to know. And perhaps that is why tears are born from grief. tears are born from loss.
there are those, who it seems are not effected by the same sadness that keep the cheeks of the world wet. Perhaps we can numb ourselves. Perhaps we can be conditioned to not see death as loss. to not connect to the saddness that surrounds.
But we are all connected. Somehow. And to numb oneself to that connection could be detrimental to ones being.
Have faith. know that none is lost. And marinate in the peace of the unknown