It sagged heavy to the well of tears,
Pressing them to leak over,
Tears rolling, rolling steady.
Deep breath in, “I can manage, be strong.”
Put a little make-up—a covering—on.
“Don’t show weakness, it’s not a good time.”
Most inconvenient these rebel tears shine.
“My Lord, I just need Thee.”
“No, darling, you were grafted to a tree.”
A tree without branches indeed would be ill.
“Going alone was never My will.”
“Could You just hold me?” this prayer did I send.
“Feel My arms in the embrace of a friend.”
Sweet friend did answer
My last minute call.
With tea and dark chocolate listened to all—
All my tears, all my honest mess.
Crying together did this friend bless.
“Thank You,” I prayed on the night drive home,
“for keeping the future yet unknown.”
To know not is to need to lean—