Thursday, 22 November 2012

Sacredness of Tears

"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love".
Washington Irving
Today's NaBlMoPo is to write about the last time I cried. The answer is that I don't remember. Not because it is a rare occurrence. I attach no judgment to crying or not crying. Like Joni Mitchell says in her song, "People's Parties" - "laughing and's the same release".

Wild Horses in The Rhondda
This is a poem I wrote for my father.

War Paint

I remember your stories told only to me
in the darkness we shared before sleep.
Of souls loving the untamed land,
of feather and bones, and paint made from the earth.

I dreamed then, of wild places, of horses
the colour of prairie rainbows,
a line of warrior joining earth with sky.

The circle of years brought us to barren land. 
We fought, rattling like empty pods,
war paint dripping in the blaze of an angry sun.

Returning home after your sudden death,
you had left one moccasin lying in the dark.
I wept then for the endings I would miss,
and those shared wild places of our separate hearts.



  1. I shed few tears, I just get to the 'lump in my throat' stage. Your poem got me there.
    I think, if something has happened in your life (even if it's trivial) which triggers a bout of endless crying, it's hard to cry much again after that.

    I don't like it when people measure pain in relation to whether or not tears feature. "She was crying her eyes out, bless her".
    Does that make the ordeal worse than if no tears came?

    1. Hi Lucy,
      It's like that phrase "all cried out". I'm wondering if that means, for me, that I can't physically invest any more time and effort in the pain or whether I've come to a place of resolution - and how different are these two things.

  2. What a great poem ( I could never write like that) and the shot of feral horses too. I especially liked the shared wild places of our separate hearts

    By the way, take a look at Lucy's blog (comment above) - she writes so well about the Rhondda I think.

    Lovely to see you last night - we all got very drunk in the pub afterwards!