In macro-vision, these tears overwhelm;
They are all I see through salt-dimmed frame.
If trouble takes Perspective’s helm,
Then, counting heart-aches, giving name
To every ghost that bumps this night,
The chains of Christmas past will drag
Their mark across my hapless plight,
And Hopelessness will choke and gag.
But if I take a breath, and back
A step along my sorrowed trail;
If I let details fade to black
And place in context my travail,
I find Perspective, elusive sage,
Hiding in reflected tears.
Her cousin Solace comes of age
As surrendered, I let go of fears
And, eyes adjusting to the scene,
Raindrops blend into the whole;
Painted backdrop becomes serene
As Perspective nudges lifted soul.