When mourning comes
The slow and painful rise of awareness
Bright and shocking to our confused eyes
When the tears fall for the Unlived Life
And the thoughts come of What Could Have Been
The Should Have Been’s
The If Only’s
Do we deny, then, or accept?
When mourning comes and the tidal waves of deep regret
Stick to your cheeks, smearing them with agony and loneliness
And your heart screams, why can’t it be different?
I should have known
And you look stupidly at your own ignorance
Mad at something that makes no sense to be mad at
Oh but so, so mad
And sad
The piercing bitterness rises
When mourning comes
And morning always comes
Do we deny, then, or accept?
Can we forgive ourselves for the Not Knowing
Can we start to see through new eyes
Polished, clearer from our suffering
And see — truly see — that there is no other way for any of us
To live this journey
Except exactly as it is
ariaphoenix 
How very poignant in my first read. Oddly removed yet connected, observing a familiar scene.
However, as I explored When Morning Comes, for a second time, it was painfully clear that it was no longer my eyes that were poring over it. My fragile emotions were now feeling your words, “When the tears fall for the Unlived Life”.
Instantly that thickness, tightness in my throat gave way to those too familiar, agonizing tears. Curiously, in spite of the pain, I couldn’t stop reading your words through the tears, even as my throat kept closing. All these years, self-forgiveness has been such a confusing notion for me, as I think you know.
Self-forgiveness, especially for an “Unlived Life”, is a nearly intolerable concept for me. Yes, you’re right, the Judger is present. Still quite real though, is the height of my apprehension. Even with your guidance, determination, and unwavering support, I may not be able to use the tools you give me to uncover those new eyes I would need, to truly see. I am, trying to imagine what it would feel like…