Warm
These are the tears of joy,
They say, I pray, that the tears run warm today.
Cold
They are the tears of sadness.
Of sorrow, that tomorrow, may readily bring. 
Oh how I hope they are warm today.
Tell me, if you would, if you could,
Why do the windows to the soul let the rain in, as they do?
For you? For me? For we-- I see.
Will the rain be of spring, or of fall?
Do you know? Can you know? Is that a no? 
I thought so.
Let me see them, let me be them, let me be the one.
To dismiss the cold, release the hold, these autumn tears hath brought,
So with kiss, the warm, a storm, of spring's tears may fall upon us.