The Salt and The Sun.
The flood of eyes turns to silence,
A quiet rain upon the soul,
Where every tear is a hollowed echo
Of the parts that aren't yet whole.
We sit in the damp of the shadows,
Learning the language of the rain,
Finding that even the heaviest clouds
Are just the precursors to change.
But smiles rise with hope,
Like the first green leaf through the snow,
A sudden warmth in the winter air
That tells the heart it’s okay to grow.
For sadness nourishes hope,
A strange and bitter kind of dew,
That feeds the roots of the hidden strength
Building a version of you that’s new.
Life flows and finds its way,
Like water through the jagged stone,
Carving out a path of grace
In places where we felt alone.
The salt of the tear and the light of the grin
Are the rhythm of the breath we’re in;
For we are never just the weeping,
And we are never just the light—
We are the beautiful, messy weaving
Of the morning and the night.
B