Beauty of a Tear

A tear is made

of the purest

most precious water

and limited it comes out

to kiss our skin

before it takes

with every touch away

what has hurt us

so much before.

 

How much more perfection

could be given

in an assumed imperfection

we try so often to hide?

 

When a tear

that was growing to a drop

has this one moment

where it shines

in all its beauty

before it dies

on our skin

 

How could be something so real

not being beautiful?

Something

that describes so honest

a truth that express life.

 

How could we be ashamed

Of our own beauty?

Of something that rise in us

To die outside of us

For us

In a moment

Where a covered sadness

Suddenly turns into

a discovered pain

visible

by many drops

That are Cried

in tears

 

And when it runs

it takes with it

what should go

and just the water

that is falling in drops

with every single tear

marks the way it runs

over soft skin

that feels the wet touch. 

 

Eyes the mirror of souls

Starts speaking in a beauty

with beauty

about pain and relief

of a moment,

in a moment

that is so short

but so intense

for a person

who seems to be so weak

but is so strong

for a story

that has found an exhausting end

but is even the right one

in a moment

it feels wrong.

 

How could we say ugly

To something

that has been given to us

for a reason?

That is waiting

so patiently

for its time

to take away

with beauty and dignity

everything that would kill us inside

and protects us

of harm and sadness

with its death

 

A heart speaks a language

we not always understand

but feel in the moment

where the water

we produced by ourselves

kiss with the beauty of a tear

our skin

to translate for us

the language of an emotion.

 

God has given us the power

To create life in us

And let it die outside of us

For us

 

We were born

with the first tear we cried

The first production of ourselves

For ourselves

In a perfection

That couldn’t be more beautiful

 

So tell me

how could a tear

that lives just for a moment of us

not being beautiful?