especially when the chapel is dark
and the only illumination in the room
emanates from the candle sticks on the altar
and the lamp shade on the table
where the priest is delivering his meditations:
Hold on to your tears with the cups
of your eye bags. If they brim and seem
to overflow, lift your head up high, raise
your chin, and let your tears gather
like pools over your eyes. You will know how
it is to view the world from the bottom
of a dark lake. The dark lake is your soul
and there you will have to live, at least for now.
Hold on to your heart, do not let it spill,
for if you do, you will not be able to stop
yourself from turning into a river of sorrow
and the people sitting beside you will wonder
and perhaps be embarrassed on your account.
For the longest time, you have been a frozen
body of water, and now, finally, you are pierced
by the sword of love unconditional.