Be thankful, weeper in the dark, for tears.
Cherish each oval spark
Of moisture that upon your lash appears
To be a small defiance to the dark.

Make cups of both your hands, feel cool tears fall
Upon your palm's hot skin,
And know you hold the essences of all
The worth of you though piety or sin.

Be thankful that the full breath still may run
Distilling itself in tears for you to weep.
Better to grieve than smile into the sun
Like one who smiles in sleep.