It was an evening of tears. Not of pain or sadness but those that arise unbidden and unexpected after witnessing a hardened woman who finds a sliver of grace to forgive herself and another.
Tears of gratitude from the sudden awareness of undeserved goodness given freely.
This flow welled up from something so deep within me it belies masculinity, logic, or the thick and high walls cast up from hurt.
Tears that pierce scar tissue wrapped around the soul from pain or the fear of it from abuse and the remembrance of it. These are powerful tears more mighty than the brutality and shameless arrogance I witness on the evening news.
Oh how full I felt from this unabashed weeping as if I had been visited by angels, innocence, or something that can only be called divine.