Morning Dew Glistens

 

The morning dew glistens

On Spring’s glorious new blooms.

The sparkle as bright as a star

In the night.

Tears glisten in the eyes of those

Who have lost.

The shimmer of the tears

Is intense in the moonlight.

Does the dew try to hide

From the heat of the morning sun?

Do the tears try to hide behind

The smile,

In a continual façade for the bereaved?

Or is the dew always present,

Lingering just out of sight?

And aren’t the tears always hovering

Behind the smile?

Each dawn brings a new intensity

To the beauty of the morning dew.

And to the knowledge that it will be back

With the darkness of the night.

Each dawn brings a new intensity

To the pain of so many tears.

And to the knowledge that it will be back

With the darkness of the night.

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