The drop that makes us whole

A teardrop, it’s worth more than an ocean

When fully soaked with devotion

It isn’t hands that fold, but it is the tears that fall

Which clean the inner prayer hall

Tears rise not heavenward but seek the ground

To be with the dust, which wears feet as a crown

We carry an abundance, of that holy water

It’s flow stops, when the eyes wander

When fully grown, we cease to cry

Afraid of the weakness it could imply

Shedding them for the Divine isn’t a shame

When the heart pours, tears carry no name

Like dew, they may be fleeting

But one drop, can offer a seat at the meeting

Coming face to face with the universal soul

That’s the missing piece that makes us whole