When It Cries It's Rushed Poem by James McLain

It is the tear thats never shed, it's
path, is long in this your empty bed.
Across your miles of empty space,
it's hand you hold.
Once upon a time, is now,
it's face in moon filled light, it's darkness, veiled.
It is the ocean never seen, it's heart to bleed.
it is the wave it's vast stills cleared of foam your wake.
It's humbled awe to running mouth in it's two hands.
It launched a thousand touches, kisses,
inside your breaking shore.
It is the rose rushed mask so warm, once worn
it's flow to never grow inside to know.
It is the smile that washed in Halley's,
icy gown her comet's trail, that inked her smile.