Monday, June 6, 2011

bloom in the early hours

restless, i wander
ceaseless, my worries

i slip my fingers into the grain
feeling texture graze my skin
hoping the repetition brings me peace

oh hollow friend, you would wallflower my work
but i grasp the tiny kernels, breathing the pungent air

i work, but not endlessly
for the joys of labor are found in the toil

i climb the grassy hills in the early morn
and rest as rays of sun peak over the horizon

love, save the empty
fill the restless wanderers
strengthen the weak
bloom in the early hours of dawn

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