God's Tears

In meditation I see her holding her heart in her hand. 

Mourning something that almost was, her tears wash the bruises away. 

She asks why and when. And ponders her own solitude.

Walking alone in the rain as it washes the dim mist away from the landscape

And a lush green fills the air

As if God's paintbrush was suddenly working all over her world. 

The gold and red autumn leaves brighten and she stops to say thank you. 

Fresh rainwater drips from her cloths and she shivers and smiles

As God's tears wash away her own.

She puts on the kettle as the peace of the Spirit surrounds her. 

She will only cry in the joy of the day that God gave to her.

Peace flows like a river and she drinks from the river of life.