The Tears That Hills Cry - original poem by Darcy Hay published on 2021-07-09T19:31:02Z For friends who are gone and for friends, who remain - and precious ones, who are one, and the same. Who carried me through my sorrows, and strain. and gave me the sweetest warmth of my days. Who showed me that kindness is the purest of prides - that love is a river, that tears are her tides. Thankyou for warming my coldest of nights. Thankyou for walking your life by my side. Where once was fear of dying, I now have none. For nothing is new beneath this old sun - and from dust are we sprung, and to dust, we become - and love is the bedrock that anchors the grass. Oh, I come from a long line of soldiers and currs - slaughter-house men, nurses workers, trailing their bloodied hands through the Earth; and love is the bone that firms their frail grasp. Who showed me no mountain of money can buy one single star more, to string in the sky. Thankyou for warming my coldest of nights. Thankyou for walking your life by my side. The crickets are louder than black thunder claps. Their songs are swirling, to spite dizzy bats - and the sky whirls, burned like an old treasure map, and this desert is quiet, and cold as blue steel. Your presence comes back like de ja vu's spark in Joker's Tunnel, little feet in the dark - and I am without you, but we are not apart, and I cannot explain the sadness I feel. Who showed me that good little boys never die. You who showed me the tears that hills cry. The ranges are wet where we'd romp and we'd stride. My child, I love you. My little one - goodbye. Genre Storytelling