Strange that trees shed tears.
Little jeweled droplets.
Poised on naked branches.
Reflecting my own melancholy.
For a maddening world.
Where people hurt each other.
Innocents suffer.
Injustices grow like weeds.
Endings unravel faster than beginnings start.
So easy to let bad tidings flood the mind.
Especially after holiday farewells.
When guests distract from the usual diet.
Daily news, social media.
With their good cheer, enthusiasm.
Involvement in activities.
Baking, group walks.
Outtings, theater.
Now behind us.
Leaving a hollow.
Easily filled with sorrows.
For the multitude of them.
Ceaseless, never ending.
So, let me have my tears.
Legitimate, justified.
But also stock the void.
With good deeds, comaraderie.
Helping neighbors with a meal.
Marking the new year with friends.
Preparing for adventure.
Focusing on those I love.
Scattering kindness seeds.
Tapping into my own self’s best.
Relief from bleak unease.
Lynn Benjamin
December 30, 2023
