My body has become accustomed to waking up at 4a. This morning it told me I had to go to the bathroom and it wasn’t willing to wait. I tried for a few minutes to refuse its relief but realized either way it will find a way to keep me up so I begrudgingly got my bum out of bed. I have a nightlight in my hallway that illuminates my bathroom enough that I don’t usually turn lights on. This morning though I had the need to. As I washed my hands I looked in the mirror and good golly Miss Molly my eyes were swollen. Was my husband dropping elbows last night without me noticing?

I went back to the room to wake up my sleepy husband only to realize I was having some kind of allergic reaction because my arm and leg had rashes as well. So I threw myself a pity party and cried. As a writer it was the perfect backdrop to writing a scathing letter to my body about how much I currently abhor it. But this came out instead.

Teardrop Storyteller

There’s a story behind each tear drop
Sometimes good and sometimes bad
Stories to fill a library
Of what’s happy and what’s sad
There’s a story for excitement
And a story for the weary
Buckets for all the laughter
When things are a bit more cheery
There’s a story for the heartache
For breakups and for loss
Each drop that runs down your cheek
Hits you with a cost
And yet the tears still flow
A storytellers dream come true
Coloring pages with the words
Of missing pieces and I love you’s
They write beauty with each drop
Saying it’s ok to cry
For its tears that bring them life
Providing them a high
The drop that shows enchantment
Or the drop that shows relief
Gives the tellers days on end
Writing stories with great lief
And in your darkened hour
When sleep alludes your soul
The tears of all your stories
Begin to slowly unfold
Stories of knights in shiny armor
With dragons they do slay
Of rainy days and mud puddles
Remembering times of child’s play
Stories of adulting
Of the things you had to do
And suddenly you realize
You’re a storyteller too
So you grab a larger bucket
To catch your tear drops in
To share of the life’s lessons
Of where you’ve gone and been
There’s a story behind each tear drop
Stories of love and of dismay
Now let your writer’s heart tell your story
Of how you’ve made your way

Now, for the real question, who knows how to unswell two swollen eyes so I can get to church? xoxo