CLOUDBURSTS

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