An ocean of teardrops has been shed
By millions of women long dead.
By thousands today,
Every moment, every hour,
As love is lost or life turns sour.
When kittens die, when babies cry,
The feelings of women run like underground rivers
Erupting at the surface into myriads of emotions,
Felt, not analyzed.
Tears of rage. Tears of joy.
All in the same woman, same day.
Breasts filled with caring, capable of giving
Nurturing to a soul in need.
She builds a dream castle in the sand by the sea.
She fills it with hope, love, and mystery,
Shapes it with her heart and welds it with her strength
Until the tide changes and tears it apart.
She waits for a sailor from far seas,
Holding a wreath of flowers to welcome him to love.
Alas, there is no lover, only emptiness to sea.