One Grain of Salt

When you,

or someone

who owns
property
in your heart,

are deeply,
profoundly,
intensely,
hurt

you cry salted tears of grief –
you cry cups
and buckets
and pails
filled to the brim.

And after that moment,

after that sliver of time
is shaved away
from all other time,
and set apart
for all memory –

that moment
when the truth of it all
invades your soul –

when you see the
sins of others
and the
Sin of yourself –

from that instance
forever forward
every tear you shed –
no matter the reason –

contains at least
one
grain
of salt
tasting
of that deepest pain.

And God,
You say
a record is kept
of each of my tears –

every drop placed
in Your ledger.

What is it You record?
When I cried?
Why I cried?
Where I cried?

Or do You know
the makeup
of each tear?
Do You know
the origin of
each
solitary
grain?

Is there a column
for each hurt,
each harm,
each pain?

Do You tally
it all up
to make sure
You’ve not
missed a
single one?

And God,
You say
each of my
tears are kept
in a bottle.
For what purpose?

Do You look
at it when
You think
of me?

Do You see
the little specks
of salt
swimming in
my tears?

Or do they settle
to the bottom –
a slim white layer
of sorrow?

Will You one day
empty it
into the deepest
sea?

Or will You
drink it down,
taking within
Yourself
all
the salty
mess
I have cried?

You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.
Psalm 56:8(NLT)