Tears of Another Kind

Desolate is the masted boat in a bottle

Like a matchbox in the home where smoking has stopped

Sad is the used vanity-image soap of a screen star

After stepping out of the shower

Longing is the love pill

Found in the pocket of the deceased

Happy are the mates of an acquitted sentence

Pleased is the spider of dew decorated webs

And the butterfly finding crimson blooming flowers

Such is life that sees through the obvious

Knowing that happiness is readily available to tenacious focus

Accepting the plus or minus reward that mystery affords

And allowing tears of another kind

To transform into sheer gratitude.