There are many hard hearts, many hearts of stone in this world.
She pulls them up by their mountain roots and carries them,
like a load of heart heavy laundry, to the river.
She uses the soothing properties of water
and in that way she softens the stones.
Her hair is made up of every color in every conceivable
(and inconceivable) spectrum
and as she launders those hard hearts she cries
shining, shimmering, multi-colored pearls of tears.
She polishes the stony hearts to brilliance with her tears
and as she does so her hair (each time she does this)
is drained of all color. It swirls to her feet
like a silver cape and she smiles through her tears.
Her smiles are like kisses that melt in the rain,
fleeting but oh so beautiful.
As she disappears her hair flames
with legion color once more. — Annette Marie Smith