Tears of a Baby.

In the quiet of the early dawn,
When the world is still, with shadows long drawn,
A fragile cry breaks the tender night,
A baby’s tears, pure and bright.

Tiny eyes, wet with crystal streams,
Reflecting a world full of dreams,
What could stir this innocent soul?
What makes these little tears unfold?

Are they born of hunger’s call?
A thirst that rises, gentle but tall,
Or perhaps the cold that creeps inside,
A chill that makes the warmth subside.

The mother’s heart beats soft and fast,
Her hands move quickly, but her love will last.
She cradles close this weeping form,
To shield it from all earthly storm.

The tears of a baby, so raw, so true,
Are whispers of life, both old and new.
They speak in ways words never could,
Of needs and wants not understood.

Each tear that falls is a tender plea,
For love, for warmth, for family.
In those drops, pure and divine,
Lie the threads of a delicate design.

A wail, a sob, a piercing cry,
That echoes softly through the sky.
A symphony of innocence unfolds,
As the babe's sorrow softly molds.

The tear that slides down cheek so round,
In silence speaks, without a sound.
The world is vast, the pain unknown,
But with each tear, a seed is sown.

The mother listens, feels the beat,
Of life itself, so soft, so sweet.
She knows the language of the heart,
That no tear can tear apart.

Her fingers brush the tear away,
But more will fall, throughout the day.
For in this tiny, fragile form,
A storm of emotion, raw and warm.

Yet in those tears lies something bright,
A spark of hope, a guiding light.
For tears are not just cries of pain,
They wash the soul like cleansing rain.

They speak of hunger, speak of fear,
But also of joy when love is near.
A tear can fall for many a reason,
And each one marks a precious season.

The first tear shed from life's first breath,
Is not of sorrow, nor of death,
But of the miracle unfolding here,
A brand-new soul, soft and dear.

For tears are the voice before words bloom,
A silent whisper in the room.
A signal sent to those who care,
To love, to comfort, to repair.

They fall like rain from sky to ground,
In these tiny drops, emotions are found.
For every tear the baby cries,
Is a message sent in soft disguise.

Tears of fear, tears of need,
Tears that from pain or hunger feed,
Tears of joy, of warmth, of trust,
Tears from love’s embrace, so just.

They flow freely, without shame,
For in this world, it is the same.
A baby’s tears are pure and true,
And every drop holds something new.

Perhaps one tear is shed in sleep,
For dreams too wild, for thoughts too deep.
Or maybe it falls in waking hours,
As the world’s beauty overpowers.

Those tiny eyes that see it all,
The rise of light, the night’s fall,
The warmth of hands that hold so tight,
The soft, embracing kiss goodnight.

And in those eyes, a soul reflects,
A world where everything connects.
Where tears are more than just a cry,
But wings that help the heart to fly.

Tears of a baby, simple yet grand,
A mystery no one can fully understand.
In them lies the power to mend,
And the love that never will end.

For in each tear, a world unfolds,
Of stories untold, of hearts consoled.
Each drop a journey, a life begun,
A reminder that love is never done.

The baby weeps, but it’s not alone,
For in those tears, a love is shown.
A mother’s arms, a father’s care,
A family’s love, forever there.

So let the baby cry, let it weep,
For in those tears, the soul does keep,
A piece of the world, pure and bright,
Shining softly through the night.

And though the tears may seem in vain,
They wash away the unseen pain.
They nurture growth, they ease the way,
For every dawn after the night’s gray.

And when the last tear falls at last,
The storm of sorrow shall have passed.
A smile breaks through, warm and new,
The world in a baby’s eyes is true.

So let the tears of a baby fall,
For in their drops, we find it all.
The fears, the hopes, the love, the dreams,
The fragile threads that life redeems.

For every tear is a song unsung,
A melody where love’s begun.
And in those tears, we all can see,
The heart of life’s purest mystery.

Tears of a baby, small but bright,
A beacon in the darkest night.
For every tear tells a story rare,
Of love, of life, beyond compare.

In this poem, tears are not just signs of distress but represent the raw, unspoken language of love, need, and life it
self. Through the lens of a baby's tears, we witness the profound connection between emotions, care, and the nurturing bond between parent and child.