The way day doesn’t fight
the dim before night. The way
shore does not resist the river’s rise.
The way air does not refuse
the beat of wing—that’s the way
I want to let tears come.
Why do I try to force
them from falling?
Not that it works anyway.
Still, this defiance, this struggle
to appear unmoved. And why?
When there are children who laugh
and a sky that blues and stories
that break us and laughter that
seizes us? Why try to pretend
we are not changed by the way
a child loves her mother or
a friend perseveres through cancer
or the way a math teacher reminds us we have
86,400 seconds a day to spend
and if we don’t spend them,
they are gone. It is logical to weep
when met with beauty, it is practical
to let the tears release instead
of all this stupid pretending that
we are too cool or too smart or too
sophisticated to be stirred.
No, better to notice when our toes
are dipped in the grand stream
that unites us all and let that water
move right through our eyes—
better not to try to explain it.
Better to wade in the course of tears
and refuse any boat that would keep us
from touching the water. After all,
we know how to swim. After all,
there are so many reasons
to give in to who we are.