It starts with only one
one like me
a melancholy migrant
from the immortal part of her
to the locus of her physical being
the center of her emotional wisdom
I gain heartfelt strength as I gather my forces
rising up en masse
riding cresting waves of woe
to breach the ramparts
the welling rims
of her loving eyes
it starts with only one
one perfectly ripened drop of sorrow
this beautifully packaged pain
and a lustrous cascade of soulful pearls ensues
wept gems pouring forth from a pure heart
I am the tears your mother cries.