Long
the falling
rain;
let it fall
and
wash away
my sorrow,
that I
may have
peace,
and not
weariness
in the
times of
my grief:
fall,
rain of my
soul.
A poem written in the weariness of my spirit,
and for a time come recently, when after watching a film of unbearable sadness, pathos, I wept, silently. And through my tears my sorrow eased, and I was able at last to find peace, and acceptance.