Tears, Tides and Tragedy

It’s far too beautiful today To be mired in yesterday’s Optical hurricane. Least of all, The man imploring God and gazing skyward, Buffeted by tempestuous trepidation. The raindrops belong in the clouds, And tears don’t belong in his eyes.
Tears don’t trickle like rain— They Fall Like freshly broken hearts.
Tears Share a kinship With the tides — Those little brackish, Lunar-powered ebbs and flows. Tides even run, Fleeing a seismic, earthen shiver, Gaining speed and height as They become apocalyptic tsunamis, Set to cause death In the wake of their disastrous Convergence with land, And salty sorrow in the survivors’ eyes.
Clouds excrete for population control. They get too heavy, those Thoughtless, indiscriminate Polar molecules — numb dirt parachutes. But stormy eyes the truth can behold, Wishing wistfully for sedation, Shedding salty little chimeras Of ocean deep and opaque sky.
Tears crash to Cast ripples in the ocean From the pier while She pushes a frosty tidal wave Straight to his heart. The rain is falling mercilessly. She took her love away Like the undertow.
