Seem to overwhelm.

And in moments time we want to

Be lost in a different realm.

The tears are so softly gentle,

Little rain drops for a jar upon the mantle.

It helps us see the inner beauty,

And direct us in who we really want to be.

So as the thunderclouds hover on past.

We breathe out our inner love at last.

And cry the tear of loving or painful joy.

Like a child who has found his lost toy.

So when the tears seem to cloud our vision.

And we lose the momentum of our decision.

Might we stop and feel the gentle touch

Of tears cried too much.

And hug our inner heart,

To grace and strength impart.