My teardrop falls, a silver thread, From eyes that have no more to shed. It traces down a weathered cheek, The only words my heart can speak.
It lands upon the quiet stone, Where all my whispered prayers have flown. No thunder follows, no great cry— Just one small drop that says goodbye.
And in that drop, the whole of me, The love I lost, the life I see. It catches light before it’s gone, A tiny sun, then moving on.