Late Have I Loved You

by Artist Eye  

I don’t know what the connection is between tears and gratitude. The combination seems counter-intuitive. Sometimes, if the sudden apprehension of an untold blessing triggers the waterworks, I think that I have tripped unawares through some secret trapdoor to the seat of the soul. “How do I find myself here?” I ask. Of course, there is no answer, only more tears. Neither the medieval “cleansing of the humors,” nor more modern explanations of the mechanics of the sympathetic nervous system help me understand. Saint Augustine was suspicious of the tears he shed when moved by music that he heard in church. I am not so skeptical by nature but I agree with him that it is best to name the instigator; to name the blessing, and then to offer it to the Healer of all Tears because like Augustine “I am become a puzzle to myself . . .”

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