Tears.

Tears: small rivulets of pain
That wind their heavy, careworn way
Of suff’ring down a patient cheek –
And what are they, but some wise tool
Of that wise Hand which guides the hurt
To bring a heart, through strife and woe,
Far on the path of life and love.

Thus, tears – small rivulets of grief
That pierce the heart in poignant pain –
Are little signs of fragrant spring
Which, when the rain has fallen fast,
Finds, in the sunshine of the East,
A healing balm and joy and boost,
And grows anew in life and love.

~