be not dismayed

Why do I laugh?
Really I should be crying all day long and on throughout the night.

I'd like a wailing wall like May's.

Write up my troubles.
Write up all the troubles of the world.

All day long and on throughout the night.

Days and nights and nights and days.
On throughout all time.

Write everything.
Scraps of paper covered with my scribbles.
Cram them in.
Let the rocks crush out the terribleness of it all.

What else is there to do?
A pool of cleansing water?
A soulful song of lamentation?
A flower rolled flat between my thumb and finger?

Why do I laugh?
How do I smile?

When my heart aches as sharp as weary bones,
I picture myself falling asleep
Beneath the orchard's blossoming branches.

The pink petals soothe my eyelids to close.
I hear them whisper as the breeze rustles through.
I pillow my head with the grass.

My midday repose ends as I yawn myself awake.
The smile from dreaming remains as I breathe deeply;
Gaze focused skyward, I stand.

The stones hold the heat of the day.
I curl my toes round them,
Jumping off when I can't stand the warmth any longer.
The dandelion fluff dances high with my landing.

I cannot.
I cannot cry throughout all time.
Unsustainable.

So I
Rest,
Take pause,
Land again,
Smile.

Build those smiles together to fashion true laughter.