Sweat Like Tears

 

Hands and knees,

Down in the earth and mulch,

The roots of weeds weave,

They duck and burrow and break off,

To live and fight another day,

But the rich soil of the Kingdom,

Is worth working for,

And sweat forms on my brow,

And wearying I bow my head

And the drops run freely now,

And one in particular, leaps somehow,

Over the ridge of my eyebrow,

It hits my highest point of cheek,

Cascading down towards my mouth,

It feels like a tear,

A tear that comes from a deeper  and less emotional place than the ones from my eye,

This too, is a kind of cry,

And I,

Am digging,

Am weeding,

Am sowing in sweat and tears,

And knowing I've been sowing in the wrong kind of tears,

For years,

And years,

And years,

Maybe this kind,

Will bring that morning joy,

I'm fighting for my land now,

And the dirt is beneath my nails