Susan Kowalchik

Whitestone, New York

The Tears You Can'T See

What a colorful world I do see -- blending a rainbow that possesses the secret of our magical sky

As the wind blows the leaves on the trees to sway back and forth to wave away the brilliancy of
their tender hello's to their regretful good bye's,

I realize in amazement for I feel the passion and without the question - without the why

I notice what they try to say, I hear their whispers and again I ask not why

When they fall and fall not to die, for I see more clearly as they shiffer to fade off and reveal
a shade that comes closest to a sudden dry

I look up at those great big trees and see a tree that has suffered a loss has mourned its best
friend of whom protected thee from mother nature - the touch that equates a falseness to this
simplistic lie

They are still standing and not afraid to watch as they bid their parts a farewell
and dare not to shed a tear nor do they wither to hide and cry

I step into the solid ground and walk around to find the softness of the soil that flourishes to
greatest when the moisture fills the air that seeps in an attempt to settle down from its beginning
where once sheltered up high

These are the moments understood as I blink to eliminate my own shadow and without questioning as
to why the moisture washes away the sudden dryness that surfaces over this mirror this reflection
referred to as an eye.

The tears you can't see hold the answers to the questions of which are never asked for where winds
blow - a drowning allows a breath to grow old and forever bring another day - another unforeseen
tear - another try ......................
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