Perched on the precipice of the malar eminence
I flow from the window of the soul
I am the vessel of passion
I am joy and sadness
I am laughter and despair
Coerced, nudged, my journey
courses through the
crevices etched along the way
Time moves aimlessly
my destination before me
at the ramus of the mandible
My journey is for not as
Scorn and pity greet me
My existence shrouded in white
Alas, I am the projection of weakness
Forever swaddled in my mother’s arms
A TEAR’S JOURNEY - SYNOPSIS
As a physician, I witnessed people in tears under various circumstances. Tears greeted new life in the delivery room and tears accompanied farewells at life’s end. It always amazed me that no matter the setting, the tear ended its journey shrouded in tissue to be forever interpreted as a sign of weakness or vulnerability like the infant swaddled in the mother’s arms.
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