"Beautiful Places"

Pouring the final tears down my face
into thousands of streams
into a river
of despair and remorse
which foams desperately behind you
as you walk through a field under the golden sun
searching for a place to lie among the flowers
to burrow your face in the clean grass
and wrap yourself in a blanket of dreams.
How kind of you to return to the river
countless times, to soothe its sorrow
with your tender touch, to calm its fury
by drinking of it
and letting it fill you until it is calm.
The river is now drying,
the tears have run out
leaving you free to explore
and to find your own beautiful places.

  -allie
