You can cry a river

Or a cupful of soul

You may shed

Till the tears make rhythms

Like mallets on marimbas

The heart can still perceive

What the eyes can still receive

A stream  of tears

Never suffices

Never drowns

The eyes that strewn it

But you must be valiant

Dare to open those eyes

To see the things up on high

Always

At the obscure corner

Of  scrutiny

There lies a different view

Other than the one

That snuffs your breath

The monsters that lie before you

Have powers  much less than

Your view of them

 

 

kenza

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mallet