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On Love, Losing, and Moving On

A poem
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A mural of two hands.
Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

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I stood face-up in the rain,
Trying to feel a single drop without the pain,
But the heaven sends them like pointed nails,
Penetrating your memories of a million grains.

My heart was crying a river,
A tear that lasted forever,
Nothing equates what I endure,
The chill that freezes me entire.

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A distant chirp shook me free,
Till through the blindness I could see,
The wind that blew past the lonesome tree,
And you as I should have seen.

If love alone heal such like wounds,
Is moving on as simple as it sounds?
None believe what’s beneath the ground,
Yet the unseen beauty remains so profound.

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