Have you ever choked on your tears? Ever cried so much, that at some point no voice came out, but the mouth agape, and the silence felt leaden? Ever cried to a point where you said, "Give me a lot of joy, now that I've cried copious tears"?
As the saying goes, 'boys don't cry', and so can't I (often), so I imagine my tears and the catharsis they bring alongside.
So when Celine Dion asks the heavens to open up and wash away her salty stream in 'A New Day Has Come', I wait for that magic to befall me.
Like the Asian model in the video, who begins to unravel in her shower, either perchance or by will; I've tried reconciling my ego with my ether, standing under the forceful slaps of the warm waters
Just the thought of that exercise gives me goose-flesh of sudden respite.
Doth heavens actually listen to the woebegone outpourings, and answer them match for match? Thank God for that not happening, or we'd always be under a deluge, for this world is indeed Pandora's opened chest, smarting us all, turn by turn, unwarned.
And then, sometimes the wails cease, voluntarily: they've known the futility of waiting to be sheltered. They steel us, somewhere inside, oft not in a good way. The stings we received, become our antidote and soon, somebody else's poison. We pass the malady on.
.
Suddenly the resplendent sun rays in the video hit me too. A dark corner lights up. I wake from my reverie of hapless brooding. Is there something out there that actually thaws these frigid, steeled hearts, in a flow which bubbles in flute glasses and not in the moisture of the yes?
I'm still poring out of the window for an answer, a ray of light perhaps.
Will love's dawn fall on these dark horizons ever?
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