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.