Receive me, reject me, consume me.

Life is fragile.

Let the summer rains cleanse you, wash over you.

The world weeps; dry her tears.

Let them rest upon your head.

A sound, a voice, a memory.

How, but by the ways of men do we live so carelessly, broken, pained, unpainted.

The world, her soft brown, green, blue eyes tickle my senses.

Does she betray me with her warming sun or bright eerie moon that lights my darkened path?

Where am I to see her lovely face?

Who am I that she would rain upon me?

What am I that the stars may twinkle in my presence?

When am I that the wind tickles my ears with secrets of another place?

Would you be the one to show me a new world?

Receive me, reject me, consume me.

I write too. That is really good! Do you send poems out for publication?

here
is your resting
place
where
your rebirth
waits
deep
soft dry powder
cover
soon
free soul
remains