Poetry

She Doesn’t Cry… They Don’t Know Why

A Prose Poem

A.H. Mehr

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Photo by Gary Yost on Unsplash

Tears can’t talk. Tears have no language. Tears are flawless, as the impeccable skies — the impeccable skies hold a lot of secrets. When these impeccable skies can no longer hold their secrets, there happens to be a fierce downpour. A downpour that may cause floods or give relief. Downpour happens from our eyes too, but this never floods us. Instead, it makes us feel better. We cry when we can no longer hold back our feelings, when we can no longer hide our painful secrets, when it is time to seek comfort in someone’s arms — She never sought the comfort. They knew that. She didn’t cry... They didn’t know why. Her skies also hold a lot of painful secrets, but they did not see the deluge. She didn’t cry... They didn’t know why.

She hadn’t tasted tears because she wipes them off as soon as they cross the threshold of her lovely eyelids. If she is too busy and forgets to wipe the tears, she doesn’t let them fall from her pretty face. She is often told that she should not suppress her feelings. Yet, she didn’t cry… They didn’t know why.

She’s amused because they all don’t know what a nice feeling it is to suppress emotions. They don’t know how beautiful it is to feel that suffocation. They don’t know what a joy it is to feel choked while the tears build up in eyes. They don’t understand that it is satisfying for her to see her people happy because they think she is happy. They don’t know how good it is to keep the tears a secret.

But there is a secret of secrets. She cries when she is alone, in her prayers — When she asks the Maker of the skies why she had to suffer, why she had losses in her life, and pours out her feelings every time she kneels. They still think she doesn’t cry….. They don’t know why!

©A.H. Mehr

In response to I Will Not Write In Tears Today. Thanks

“Don’t be ashamed to weep; ’tis right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees, and fruit cannot grow without water. But there must be sunlight also. A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones are sealed inside to comfort us.” ― Brian Jacques, Taggerung.

“Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before — more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle.”
Charles Dickens, Great Expectations.

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A.H. Mehr

Graphophile - In a small way, but loving this aesthete's journey.