How Many Tears

How Many Tears

How many tears must I shed
before you see this life
for exactly what it is?

Endless white mountains
blocking every step;
the heart cannot beat
fast enough
to make a fire
sufficient.

Time has never been
an enemy,
but too often you have chosen
to make it so.

The ice on the river
barely goes below the surface;
even the pressure
of a single foot could break it,
if only you’d step forward.

There’s nothing lost
in crying, so long as
it’s let to stain you,
through the skin
straight to the marrow
without stopping
in front of mirrors.

How many tears must I shed
before you see this life
for exactly what it is?

A lone crow calling
from a barren tree;
the midnight moon
melting the snow
before these very eyes.