The Journey Of A Teardrop

When your water empties itself in another river

We no longer flow together

The course of my river

No longer ends at your mouth

I no longer choose to drain my land

And erode my fertile soil

In order to harvest

Your fruitless flowers

I pool all my raindrops

Slowly and steadily

I'm off to a fresh start

I search for freshwater

With my previously salty drops

I tweak the course of my river

And the land that

I surround myself with

I redefine my river's destination

I no longer meander around toxic currents

The ice that I have

Accumulated over the years

Is so thick and unforgiving

That it refuses to melt

The glaciers of my past

Is capable of eroding mountains

I can no longer flow freely

With the baggage from the past

The speed of my flow reduces and

My river is polluted with the debris of my thoughts

I've fallen and hit rock bottom

The softest rock I could ever hit

I could have become a new river stream

Where I could submit myself to the ocean

But I chose to become

A waterfall instead

“I cried a river but I built a bridge.”

After all, my teardrop is a humble part of seven billion other water cycles.