Teardrops on my windowpaneBoth from me and the coming rain.For when the sky cries, The moon shines, Each step perfect and lost. My tears water the flowers, Raising the innocents with cries of woe.As the sun weaves rays of gold Into their fragile petals-Divine glow! And the teardrops, Dripping slowly from the glass, May one day water plants of their own Blending purity with misery That feeds the infant.