Was it the rain upon my roof that woke me at this early morning hour…


or the gentle voice of a lonely flower singing in the shower.

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They heard her before they saw her…sitting deserted in the sand.

a solitary woman…sobbing into her hands.


Her head was bowed, her shoulders slumped…her legs were intertwined…

The oceans waves had reached her knees…but she didn’t seem to mind.


They wondered if they should walk to her or should they turn and go…

knowing sometimes one has to be alone to allow their tears to flow…


I’ve often wished that tears were colored coded…so when they fall like rain

we could tell if they were happy tears…tears of sorrow…tears of pain.


For if the color of her tears could make her feeling known

they could see if she wanted company…or to be left alone.


She looked up, trying to smile at them as teardrops filled her eyes

“I love to come to the ocean,” she said…”whenever I need to cry.”


“Whenever I am feeling sad…it’s the one place I can be

where every tear that leaves my eyes will fall into the sea.”


“Where my tears once they hit the ocean…immediately blend in

so you can’t tell where the ocean ends and where my tears begin.”


They sat on either side of her…they never said a word

they listened to her crying…to the ocean…to the birds…


And as the tide kept gently rising…amid her muffled groans

they knew they had to stay with her…so she would not be alone.


So three people now sat in the sand…two waiting patiently


for the other’s tears to finish raining…and melt into the sea.

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