Tears For You

What a humanizing feeling,
to shed tears for you;
to experience pain
to be weighed by the truth 
that I may never see you with your eyes open again.

A volcanic stone scraping my throat,
pushing its way up in a flood of tears,
pushed down,
down,
way down,
because if it comes up I might drown.

But where some go to sleep,
you stayed awake
Body damaged but with your mind in place;
enough to feel guilty that your parents will see you this way.

I shed tears for you.
Through your suffering I witnessed grace.
Hoping to be spared if it is ever my husband, my daughter, or me in your place.

I shed tears for you,
because your life went this way
Because there is more hope in a wheelchair than a box buried away,

These tears for you are tears for me,
a liquid manifestation of my fragility.
Forcing me to face the fact
that in an instant the life I've created will go blank.

A new stage, a new clean page,
a new perspective on life through unwelcome change.
Are your dreams the same when you've seen what you seen?
Do all the things you found important continue to be?

Your life rolled over and
pieces of it have been left behind
Darkness and fear tucked into the creases of crushed metal,
cleaned up and towed away,
to be stored in a place where you don't need to see it again.

You've been Reborn through shattered glass,
Reincarnated in battered flesh,
Reawakened in an outpouring of love--
My dear, you have been blessed.