Weeping

Rising from onword cry.
Troubled waves in a hollow roam,
When tempests in roaring sigh.
And crashing over brook and glade,
Holding tree and rock.
Bursts the dam though careful made,
Caring not for sand nor clock.
Cold liquid rising over hill,
Spilling to horizon's lace.
As silent windows in staring fill,
Sweeping control from grace.
And arms outstretched intent to drown,
Feet held fast in mud.
A breath is held in a swirling gown,
When the heart begins to flood.