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Mingled Tears

Fingers reach tenderly
to catch each other's tears
and mix them with our own;
a hope, a memory, a vow
shared unspoken,
carried by this
achingly sweet caress,
this communion
of joyful sorrow -
the mingling Of our tears.

Joy pierces deeper,
sweeter than expected,
as painfully welcome
as the stab of icy water
on a desert-parched throat.
joy so deep
that the grief of parting,
the longing,
begin before the echoes die.
Why must such
precious moments
be stolen?
"By the river," we weep.
"By the river."
A desperate embrace,
another, another,
as you tear yourself away.

ah my sister,
some live to bask in your smile,
not realizing how often
they see only a mask.
I ache to see you grieve,
but I embrace the gift you offer:
A place near your heart
where you feel free
to drop the mask
and weep.
Whatever may come,
I delight in knowing
we have tasted
true friendship
In the cup
of our Mingled tears.

 

6/9/93