The Happy Pain
There were weeping tears stacked ten to a row
in her warehouse
along side Bitter Sweets driven
deep into the mind's vestibules
and corridors.
There were laughing tears seen only through
happy smiles and contented years;
silent joys and noisy ones
membered and remembered.
She placed her hand on the Book of Gathering Time
and pressed yet another memory leaf
into its many pages.
The gentle breeze of pages closing
waifed up to her
butterfly soft;
the smells of her history
and children who
from tiny seeds
grew;
spread their
special gifts
and left
to repeat
their cycle
for posterity.
She sat down,
sighed
and held the tome
close to her bosom;
laughing the Weeping Cry
crying the Happy Pain
that is the Full Life.
So it seems
in the Harsh Regard
Happy Pain
is born and grows
making us who we are first,
last
and foremost.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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