I think it’s beautiful
that you cry.
When all unravels,
it is your Soul
that speaks
in elements.
To Earth, She calls
when you fall
to the floor.
One hand on the terra,
one hand on your heart—
a reunion of friends
that have been kept apart.
To Fire: She reaches
the lonely, burning Sun.
Warmth in dark winter,
finding Stars in a darker sky.
Quiet allies
blessing Her
from a distance.
The Air finds Her.
Travels to Her
and envelopes Her
as you begin to weep.
Knowing it can’t do much,
all it can be
is family.
An embrace so silent
yet so strong —
warding the evils off
in the most unceremonious
of ways.
And finally, to Water.
An unsheathing
of the Soul.
Rivers and oceans
come to Her;
glaciers melting,
icy mountains
moving
within you.
And a single tear
befriends you,
leading the way
for Sorrow’s own exodus.
In its wake
it leaves behind
a storm.
The trees fall,
the demons hide,
and the rain
washes the debris away.
