My Pain

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I know my pain is a little pain
Smaller then these words in a world of
words Our days strung together So many days
since the first day when that first living thing rose up and named it a day Named the voice a word Named pain
.
I know that is why my pain is a little pain because it is an unnamed pain, a pain that can not be seen to come from a projectile A tumorous growth, An empty stomach for more days then less, Leaving when hatred ravages, Dropping of the hand of those who brought us here The guide A safety line A door A dream A weave of roots that cut down lets out the wail Leaving a stain of sap on ground that will be bitter This day on
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I know as I hear the voice inside me speaking You have no right to cry for such a little pain Even if I know Somewhere even that voice must accept as truth beyond truth Tears are not a commodity that you can ration The cry is our gift Tears the way thru To keep the pain from finding its way inside There to live until it is greedy and apatite unquenched Will spin itself into our words and deeds We would give anything for that pain that found us To have stayed in its shadow and not crowed out upon us Then without tears we will see it again Even though we will not recognize it For we the messenger will birth the son Whose anger is stronger Whose remorse and pity is less
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I know and still I do not cry
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I know it and the end would be upon me but that I hear my own words and within them Laced there is a key that may one day turn My own salty self Will water the burnt ground and bring up the Tree of forgivness which will bear the Fruit of freedom
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I know that as long as there is the Chance of the tear there is a Reason to speak and to listen
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I know
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