Poetry | Emotions | Life Lessons

The Volcano That Learned to Cry

Warm tears like lava fall

I really don’t like crying It kinda makes me go insane It messes with my head the part that’s called my brain

I really don’t like crying coz it means a runny nose Cascades of salty liquids streaming like a garden hose

The welling up of blinking eyes I hope no one else will see The painful lump inside my throat surely it’s make-believe

I really don’t like crying coz it means I’ve lost control ‘Suck it up, sunshine’ is the lesson I was told

‘Keep your feelings to yourself Your heart’s not on your sleeve Pull yourself together There’s no place for weaklings here’

I should never have listened to myself that inner voice had it wrong Crying is not a sign of weakness it shows my feelings to be strong

Intense emotions take many forms anger, grief, so much agony A pendulum of raw feelings blissful joy upon sweetest ecstasy

But these past five years have been extra tough with one thing or another cried and sobbed and bawled my eyes out I’ve wept myself into a lather

I used to stop and grit my teeth but I’ve learned to let it go Crying’s my release valve A volcano about to blow

My volcano has been unlidded after way too many years The warm tears like lava fall I know I have naught to fear

© Carolyn Hastings 2021

My plan had been to re-read Sahil Patel’s prompts so Lynda, my heavenly muse, could get to work on an idea for our response while I went about my domestics. Lynda had other plans. Almost instantly, she reminded me of a conversation we’d had a few years ago where we’d talked about our shared dislike of crying.

“I really don’t like crying,” she’d said.

“Neither do I,” I’d replied. “It wears me out and I end up with a headache. Not to mention the face!”

We’d laughed.

It had been another point of connection in our golden bond of friendship. Our soul sisterhood.

Lynda told me not to cry for her when she passed away in January 2019. She told me she would be forever in my heart because that’s where soul sisters belong.

I did cry when she died but not as much as I thought I would.

I cried for me. I cried because it was so unfair. I cried for everyone who would miss her, and the enormous hole we now had in our lives.

Most of all, I cried for her. That she was now where she wanted to be. Home with her divine maker. I cried tears of happiness and relief that her journey was over, and she’d reached her destination. I cried tears of happiness because I knew that one day we would be together again. And I knew where she would be. Waiting for me. 🙏

It’s taken me almost a lifetime to learn an important lesson. The one about not being afraid to show my feelings. To let them out for all the world to see.

I’m a product of a childhood that taught me to ‘suck it up, sunshine’. It wasn’t a lesson taught with malice, but rather one that dictated that emotions were controllable, and therefore could be voluntarily suppressed.

Suppression was the default mechanism. In effect, it negated emotions altogether, relegating them to a position of selfish indulgence. Emotions were superfluous. A human excess. Just go ask Winston Smith, George Orwell’s protagonist in 1984 what he thought of that theory!

Thank you to Sahil Patel for yet another inspiring prompt — or should I say prompts. In my effort to catch up on Sahil’s poetry challenge, I’ve combined two prompts into one. 😊

Day 19’s prompt — Write a poem about an incident that forced you to cry no matter whether you wanted to or not.

Day 20’s prompt — Write a poem about a great life lesson you have ever learned.

A Word from Archie Roach

It seemed almost serendipitous that in browsing the newspaper today, I came across an article about one of Australia’s most celebrated indigenous musicians, Archie Roach. The article was essentially a promotion for the newspaper’s covid lockdown outreach program, Isolation Room. Today’s installment has Archie performing his song, We Won’t Cry. The lyrics speak of rising above adversity and not giving into despair. Here it is for you to listen to -

Thank you to Denise Larkin and her wonderful publication, The Lark, for somehow finding room for this piece. Thank you all for reading. 🙏 💕

Note: this post contains an affiliate link. If you use the link to purchase a product, I may receive a commission at no cost to you. Thank you.