Tears in a Bottle

A shock and I shake.

I feel for the ground.

It is still there.

The earth is yet still.

It is not moved.

I want to cry.

But I cannot.

I have to focus.

I have to accept reality.

Yet, I cry within.

And I ask God if He is collecting these inner tears too.

I ask him what He plans on doing with them anyway.

I am glad that he collects tears. It comforts me.

Only important things are collected.

Yeah, it would be a shame to lose them.
The Tears.

I imagine that he might make a Sea out of them.

A sea that sparkled extra bright.

We could go boating together to catch the light and keep it inside.

Or maybe he could make a river that was always flowing to a different place

Until it had seen the world,

Met every living tribe and people,

Smelled every flower,

Discovered every kind of animal…

And we would flow right along with it.

Or special rain that at a flower’s touch turned to diamonds or pearls.

What will he do with his collection of tears?

Could it be like a clothing or shoe collection?

Newly designed with every season?

With special limited time colours and styles?

Maybe they could be not only beautiful, but also useful.

Manna, Medicine or a thirst quenching spring!
Fire extinguishing!

Then I could easily let more tears fall
As all would celebrate and cheer.

He collects the tears.

He collects them in his bottle.

They are important to him.

They are not lost.

Lydiangeline

February, 2017

Psalms 56:8 You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle.

Are they not in your book?