Note: Thirty-four years ago, I began writing poetry. From time to time, generally between blog series, I like to share one with you. Today's poem I wrote my sophomore year of college. I was struggling a bit, remembering a painful period in high school, and associating that with my current arc. It speaks of how I would cry as I walked my paper route of an afternoon after school. We so often minimize/ignore pain. I believe/d that is unhealthy. One of the ways I've dealt with pain in my life is to write. Such was the case with this one, a meditation on tears.
Stay tuned; a new blog series launches next week.
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Mingled
How oft have I mingled my tears
With rain that came from the sky?
How oft through my highschool years
Did thunder drown out a cry?
The salt and the fresh on my cheek
As if they'd the perfect right
To merge into one angry streak
Stinging my face and the night?
How oft did a snowflake drift down
To melt at the touch of a tear?
On leaves all crumpled and brown
A darkening stain would appear.
How oft on a sweat-soaked face
Smudged with newspaper ink
Streaks from each eye would race
While eyelide rapidly blinked?
How oft would the bite of the wind
Whip a drop past my ear?
I'd glance, thinking to find
Rain, but be blurred with a tear.
Snowflakes, raindrops, and sweat,
Sunshine, night time, and dew,
Pine needles, gravel - I'll bet
Tears will still mingle with you.
-Tom Brennan
September 7, 1992
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