Tears, Idle Tears

It's nice to know you have someone to lean on when you cry. Especially if you don't want your family to know how silly you are and your best friend is thousands of miles away. Despite trying to live realistically, I still fall into the trap of feeling too much every now and then, and suffer the consequences. Most often those consequences are accompanied by a good bout of crying. And thus, my invoking of one of Alfred, Lord Tennyson's poems - Tears, Idle Tears. Yes, indeed my tears are somewhat idle, but they are cleansing, though they make me feel weak and foolish, but they show me who really cares for me. So, in their own idle way, they help.

Tears, Idle Tears,  Alfred, Lord Tennyson 
 
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.

Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.

Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.

Dear as remembered kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned
On lips that are for others; deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in Life, the days that are no more!

Final thought: Tears! What are tears? Elizabeth Barret Browning