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do we all ask this?
All Those Puzzling Pieces
:
When Will I Learn?
by visionary1234
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for this last parched month
summer has scorched in early
grass sizzles brown
prickles underfoot
dries and dies
as air's pared to sharp scarcity
instead of abundance
we wait
and
wait
and
wait
watching clouds gather and play
slowly wisp at the top of folded valleys
mist and tease in breezy shadows then
dissipate
before each burned morning
we wait
and yearn
for the silky feel
of rain
I sustain
thirsty ferns by buckets of bath-water
heavy, hand-drawn, emptied
on land
that can hardly gasp a ‘thank you’
Okay, I give up! I cry -
this dry is good at least for painting
let’s rip my house apart
dare to bare it all
to the elements
who cares?
God looks down
and with a mighty chuckle
at me and my bucket
makes
it
POUR
I fall
for the same dusty trick
every year
I laugh
and lick the rain
from willing lips
when will I learn
to
trust?
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Copyright 2024.
visionary1234
All rights reserved.
visionary1234
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