My Corner

There are times when a teardrop holds no weight— perhaps in a moment of a light verdict. Life continues in its ongoing flow. And there are times when a teardrop comes like a flashing storm. You hear the Earth rumble after the light gives out. You sit quietly in the corner, accompanied by the old lamp, eyes gazing out the window— waiting, waiting, and waiting— for one drop to kiss the pavement floor. It’s a dry season. My eyes are in a deep desert. I call on my people to carry me, because the storm continues. The sky is electrocuted. The Earth falls to its knees. I can’t hold the billowing clouds— they follow me to my last earthly corner. In our encounter, the sharp edges of my suffering collapse into one great pool of water. For the teardrops share how love sits unconquerable— a drowning that knows no end. I light the candle that honors your last departure. My sweet child, my love is in the rain.