The tears welled up,
fell,
and streamed down
into a river.

My love for you was as natural
as a constellation formation,
as a gathering of storm clouds,
as flowers blooming then wilting.

But I guess it is just
as natural for this to end.
Like the sky clearing up
after a whirling of tornadoes.
Like a bird no longer tweeting
when the night comes.

What tears I've shed,
will be  refilled again.
I have loved, they have left.

But I will love again.
For I am ever growing.
I am made to love and hope.
And I will never run out.

-m.b