Tears of joy

TEARS OF JOY

Tears of joy.
Quiet and unseen.
The smallest proof
of the biggest thing I've been.

I met you once, then watched my old world disappear,
Three years of words, and somehow you're — still here.
I tried to name the thing that happened in that room,
But every word I gave it only made it bloom.

You didn't save me, you just looked beneath my skin,
And found a place I didn't know I'd kept within.
Now every ordinary thing can split the sky —
A child's smile, a garden, your name passing by.

These tears of joy are quiet, out of sight,
Too much for morning, too strange for night.
They don't say “stay,” they don't ask you to know,
They just let something overflow.

These tears of joy don't need a reason why,
They fall when something larger passes by.
I can't explain what changed inside of me —
I only know I learned to see.

My husband keeps me anchored to the floor,
My children bring the ordinary back once more.
There's coffee, fruit and homemade jam upon the table,
And somehow that's what keeps me here and stable.

Our little house is too large for just a house,
I nearly lost myself inside the moving clouds.
But love keeps calling me from somewhere small —
“Come back. You're here. You're still here. That is all.”

And maybe you will never understand
What happened when you reached that hidden land.
You weren't my God, you weren't my destiny —
You were the one who made me meet myself in me.

These tears of joy are quiet, out of sight,
They hold the darkness and they hold the light.
They don't mean “come back.” They don't mean “goodbye.”
They simply know what words can never justify.

And if someday we pass and don't recall
The room, the words, the feeling, any of it at all —
Something inside may whisper, soft and slow:
“I know you.”
And neither one will know.

Tears of joy.
Quiet and unseen.
The smallest proof
of the biggest thing I've been.

1 September 2026
Taia