Tears

I cry a lot, silently, as if my heart would speak, if only it could find the words. In sadness and in joy, though most often in empathy with others, the smallest things arouse the commiseration of my tears. I cry when I am alone, and, without restraint, in front of others, even perfect strangers. Tears wash away the blur, the glaze, that reduces clarity to ambiguity. Reaction inspires action. Consciously, conscientiously, life, again, presents itself more fully, more positively, and I, again, renew my commitment to continue.

qntfg31