From one to another, embraced
silent tears and troubled sobs;
each quivering well of sorrows
glimpsing future anguishes
and obvious absences now sadly expected.
Each rush of tears cleanses,
brought forth from this wound,
this hidden but visible scar that
heals far too slowly(lest we forget),
yet we cannot misremember its source.
A wound unmendable except by long
silences and fond reflection
of what once was, and of whom.
No bandage can be attempted, except time,
Healing is impossible save cleansing tears,
Joyful reunions postponed, until on some impossible day.
So from one to another, embraced
sorrows and tears
and I merge mine with theirs in a silent
acceptance of things too large and heavy.
Candles grow when shared in the dark
like light or love, so these tears are relieved
as they are shared among us,
a wet communion of loss.
T J Pontz 