*
Weeping, weeping, weeping.
No wonder the oceans are full
No wonder the seas are rising.
It’s not the beloved’s fault.
Dying is part of the story.
It’s not your fault either:
Tears are also.
But
You can’t read when you’re
Crying. Sobbing, you won’t
Hear the song that resurrects
The body of the beloved.
Why not rest awhile? If weeping
Is one of the world’s tasks,
It doesn’t lack adherents.
Someone will take your place,
Someone will weep for you.
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