I Cried a River Last Night

This week’s poem comes from a nonspeaking autistic student-writer who wanted to preface it with this: “To be shared anonymously, as I feel sensitive to sharing who this is about.” We appreciate their discretion and their courage.

I Cried a River Last Night 


A friend once asked a question: 

How do you think a river 
cuts through a mountain? 

I wrote back, saying: 

The river uses a persistent 
force against the mountain 
until it makes its first dent.
As time passes, the mountain 
softens, allowing more change. 

I cried many rivers in the past;
none that softened my father.

It created a mountain 
of hardened pain in us. 

The pain has been melting aloud, 
my past foresights coming true,
my new visions showing me 
greener pastures. 

I see my paternal grandparents smiling, 
my father getting married, my hero
emerging from underneath 
his shame.