What if life’s deepest composures
reigned from the result of tears?
Tears of joy, tears of sadness,
the whole rainbow- sorrow of tears.
No one directly speaks about the way tears
are
invisibly linked to emotional events.
Each person is left to find their own way.
This has been so for all
of our recent storied human history.
We have built language to describe
the weigh of tears,
organized mindfulness
to accompany this weigh,
accounted for ourselves by using tears,
refined our experience style
seeking the benefits of tears,
and confined our focus
to that which tears poignantly express
as we live our life-force devotion.
Tears link to our events as dualities go.
Tears entwine, naiveté to innocence
innocence to passion, passion to chaos,
chaos to bedlam, bedlam to turmoil,
and turmoil
to madness.
All of these states as part of reality's weave
within experience's vanity and valiance.
But for small splinters
of other-voiced insight,
we are lost in the crevices of verbiage.
We send the news crew of our selves
to each motley event,
only to find our concerns
somewhat decorative as audience
yet our fascination
is subconsciously full-blown.
We feign interest for entertainment's value,
only to fall back into the unnaturalness
of this that we do
to appear to be not who we are.
The forest-for-the-trees calls us out
from deeper places within.
We feel compelled.
We use these words to express feelings
and it embarrasses us in its infantilism.
We seek the refuge of synchronicity
and it seems so infatuational.
We dream it to fully form aliveness
only to be cognitively burdened
with understanding-it-all.
We are drawn into the out-pour
and somehow trust that in this confusion,
from there is a deeper self-permission.
Somehow in death
and the misery of human suffering,
there is a freedom to tear stream,
to break through the rules
of human decorum and restraint,
to pour our being through this misery sieve,
to radiate a spirit quality
from beyond this massive veil of care,
to allow our souls source fullness
from behind the cultures we keep,
beneath the reality that defines us so,
beyond the experience styles
that measure and moderate us,
to that which we are in our vastness.
There will be more tears,
so many more events in
our lives will invite,
but no longer are these the awakeners
of our souls,
no more are these the guardians
of our blind spot vaults.
Out of these tears, our human-to-human,
our spirit-to-spirit,
our oneness-to-oneness proceeds.
There, in us, is a burning yet without flame.
There, in us, is a wind yet without form.
There is a hurled-ness
yet without conscious display.
There is a g-force of transcendence
attending to
our cells.
This place within,
where we are sentient is awakening,
where we are sourced is aroused.
Our hidden bound oneness is unraveling.
We no more have the words for it,
we simply are this way of tears
that lead us on . . .
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