long night weeping

“There is a certain pleasure in weeping; grief finds in tears
both a satisfaction and a cure.”—Ovid

the tireless rain,
the endless weeping of the dark and sullen skies,
flooding again
the aquifers that brim my red and swollen eyes;
sorrows full bred,
disconsolate, the clouds that feed my sateless lake,
unsnug in bed,
yet dreading how to face the day when i awake.

wherefore these tears
that heave the bosom of my slumbrous, starless night?
what are your fears:
are not my songs sufficient for a guiding light?
give me your hand
and let me ferry you across the great divide;
misunderstand
not that your courage, in my strength, is amplified.

let flow your pain
into the gutters, rivers, ponds, and roadside drains;
let go the strain,
the stress of life, the hunger pangs, the rigid chains.
the earth is wet
with groanings from the hearts of men, whose stewardship
makes justice fret
for liberties that in love’s oceans skinny dip.

© Copyright 2024 January 22
by Clyve A. Bowen♫