The passage

The teardrops ran free from my eyes,
Carrying a message for you,
I cried one, each single day,
To create a spring out of so few.

That spring cascaded down one day,
Riding on rapids white,
Reaching a frail rivulet,
Far away from my clouded sight.

This rivulet carried with all its strength,
In its thin ailing body,
The weight of my teardrops,
That had turned its water muddy.

The brave muddy rivulet,
Came to rest by a mighty river,
It gently unloaded my teardrops in it,
And collapsed with a shiver.

The pious river, wide and deep,
Embraced the teardrops to its core,
They rested from their travel long,
While the river filled them, with wisdom's lore.

The river bade goodbye,
At the delta of the blue bay,
The teardrops eagerly took the plunge,
Rehearsing the lines they'd have to say.

You sat on the shore, carefree, not knowing,
The teardrops by the waves were thrust,
Completing a journey so arduous,
Spent, they lay at your feet atlast.

You picked up a handful of salty mush,
The sand settled, the words slipping away,
The teardrops got lost forever,
In the heart of the abysmal blue bay.

You didn't come, not ever,
You never got to know,
I still cry a silent pain, but with tears no more,
I've let my eyes dry up, with no place to go.
© 2009 Rituparna Das