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Tears

The tears are staining the looking glass--
In cupped hands the shards lie
For all which must pass
At a stand-still; a long goodbye.
One heart was lying in the sweet, honeyed grass
Where the mythic winds sigh
To horizons broken alas
Shining only on what must die.
And in this hour the fell rivers pass
By the window where dewy webs cry
And on low idols of brass
The dust-laden winds pass by.

Can you see them old
Where they fell by the waters cold
In the glaze where the tears stand
In the blood of that tortured hand?

Do you see when I open the door
The wind where the melancholy hymns sore
And bid adieu to the music of those spheres
That guide the falling of your lost tears?

And let go--let go
Join me where the waters flow
To passages of sins forgiven
In kingdoms higher still than the ghost of Heaven.
Written by MartenHoyle (Vate C. Carmen)
Published
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