Moved to Tears
In the concert of our lives,
sometimes those minor changes
make tears blur our eyes.
Perhaps something was just too beautiful
to comprehend dry-eyed.
Maybe it was too painful,
and we hear the music of strings surround us
and our eyes pour out our souls,
so everyone can see it, and everyone knows.
Sometimes we play in the symphony;
we sway and lose ourselves,
in the beauty that surrounds us.
But sometimes, we are asked to sit
beyond the orchestra pit,
a mere observer, swept away by the next movement.
In the audience, we are in passive awe
as the music crescendos,
and our tears, from that deep place, begin to flow.
If I could play the cello, I would strive to be first chair,
with my eye on the conductor, playing my heart out;
simultaneously from the audience,
I am being moved to tears,
by such an impassioned solo.
June 14, 2008
*Footnote: I felt this way when I was flying into Amman at 2am, the first time back in 9 years. The sprawling city looked like diamonds, with a thick gold necklace traversing the broaches, and pins. So beautiful…..then tears:)