The many tears I’ve cried burrowed a deep channel in my heart
Like flash floods etching a silty bed through the parched terrain.
Some of my days were battered with torrential monsoons
That caught me off guard, clamoring for an umbrella.
They swiftly scrubbed off my carefully applied concealer
While non-ceremonially sandblasting my waterproof mascara
Leaving streaks and puffy eyes in their quieter aftermath.
Their telltale saltiness is of several vintages:
Joy and Delight are appellations that thrive in a sunny exposure
Waiting to be paired with happy times when the Champagne is flowing
While Grief and Sorrow have a field day in the shade.
Once the tear gates of my raw emotions have closed,
My features display a disconcerting after-glow
--A welcome break from the previous gloom and doom.
The irises of my eyes are peppered with dancing flecks of hope
That even the most formidable of storms
Will fail to flush off my weathered face.
There is a Pilot Light firmly anchored in my heart
A private lighthouse of sorts, keeper of the Eternal Flame.
This Guide, unruffled by the furor of the unleashed elements,
Silently mouths to me: “Follow My lead. I am pointing the Way!”
Anyas Spencer, Medford, Oregon, June 21, 2019