SONNET 791
By JH Sayyar
O gentle drops that trace my cheek in flight,
Born from the sorrow silence cannot keep,
You glisten with the memory of night,
And speak the truths I bury far too deep.
Each one a prayer, unsaid yet understood,
A sorrow's hymn no tongue could ever sing.
They fall like petals shed from heart and blood,
Each tears a ghost with soft, transparent wing.
No hand can stem the tide the soul has known,
Nor dam the grief that overflows the eyes.
The heart must weep when left to ache alone,
Its voice the rain that darkens inner skies
Yet fall tears, cleanse the pain you show
Through you the deepest wounds may grow.
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