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.