Overflowing

They come, as they always do, the tears which spill out of my eyes and heart. I feel them cooling as they run down my cheeks and nose, and glimpse them falling to his hand through the blur of more tears rising. There is so much I want to say. So much I feel and words for none of it. His words are enough: “Sam my dearest hobbit, friend of friends,” he said. “Are we ever likely to need bread again?”

His blessing shatters despair and his despair shatters joy, and all I can do is weep amidst the shards.

Overflowing

They come, as they always do, the tears which spill out of my eyes and heart. I feel them cooling as they run down my cheeks and nose, and glimpse them falling to his hand through the blur of more tears rising. There is so much I want to say. So much I feel and words for none of it. His words are enough: “Sam my dearest hobbit, friend of friends,” he said. “Are we ever likely to need bread again?”

His blessing shatters despair and his despair shatters joy, and all I can do is weep amidst the shards.