This wilting world

Breathe deep of
this wilting world,
watch as death
becomes ripe in
the eyes of the living.

The corners pulse with change
as our months disappear
into seasons,
as we forget our truths
in the ocean waves.

To repeat ourselves
is our curse and
our joy,
to grow wheat again
where wheat has died,
to cry where
tears have fallen,
to open doors heavy
with memory.

Start again,
kiss your shadow
as the sun rises
like grass.