Your Dry Eyes Are Quiet Ground

The sun is rising, and the world is still broken, but your eyes feel dry as dust. You carry the weight of every headline, every war, every starving child, yet not a single tear falls.

You wonder if this dryness means your heart has turned to stone. It has not.

The light does not demand your tears as a tax for caring. Look at the sky — it holds the dawn without weeping, yet it brings the warmth that wakes the earth.

There is a mercy in this silence you cannot see yet. The Father's light is not waiting for your grief to prove your love.

It is already shining on the very things that break your heart. You do not have to cry to be held.

The light sees your numbness and calls it rest. Your dry eyes are not a failure of compassion.

They are the quiet ground where the morning grows.