Mother’s Tears

Mother’s Tears

Another night of forgetfulness
Is spun into the realm of Dawn.
Purple threads brush the Earth
Through a chorus of chirps and whistles.

This lit finger of Heaven’s touch
Lies still, yet too quickly passes.
Mother’s tears swell into cool dew
That longs to fill those hearts of hope.

The thirsty must drink now,
Before withering winds and panting sun
Carry the dream drops in rising skies,
To wet the hair of cosmic gods.

Man’s day of grey follows,
Unknowing choice of doubt and despair;
He walks proudly in free illusion,
Licking the red ooze of his wounds.

– Maral Siegel.


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