The skies had wept for days and days
With tears that did not end;
They spilled unceasing to the earth
Like sorrows that won’t mend.
And, as the skies wept endless tears,
I stared out through my pane;
Not all the tears reflected there
Were born of winter’s rain.
But then the skies began to clear
As if its tears had dried.
I stepped out in the clearing day
And every tear they’d cried
Had clustered on the branches of
The leafless cherry tree.
Each barren branch glistened with tears,
A sparkling memory.
But as I got a closer look,
Like magic, I could see
That each small drop on every bough
Reflected the whole tree
And suddenly I wondered if
My tears reflected me.
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