Sun

What do you wonder at, my son?

That the fragile flower
permeates cheer

while the fearless man
wilts and withers

under the light and glow
of our beloved sun?

Who am I?

I have seen your anger

I have seen you being rash

I have seen you being irrational

I have seen you lash

I have seen you as an arrant rogue
I have seen you being loved
I have seen you being used
I have seen your devotion

I have seen your fondness

I have seen you happy

I have seen you helpless

I have seen you punish 'em

and when you've let 'em flourish

I have seen you threaten

I have seen you tremble

I have seen you being blamed

I have seen you being wanted

I have seen you change, 

forms and shapes, and,

I have seen your resolve

I have seen you repent

I have seen you cleanse

I have seen you calm

and I have seen you cry

I have seen you being bullied

I have seen you betray

I have seen you in pain

and when you loved in vain

However...

You are unlike the humans around,

You never fake.

In all, I have seen all of you.

Who am I to you, dear rain?

Wrinkles

I read my writings of a decade ago.
Vernal, vivacious, pithy and sharp.
Liberal, focused, aplenty and nimble.

And then, I immediately,
scrutinize my face in the mirror.
Wrinkled and dull.

I wonder...

If my mind became as vulnerable
as my skin had become--owing to its love,

Time.

Introduction to Violence

Wouldn't exposing kids to the act of buying meat from a butcher (and thereby to the cleaning process) be considered as an act of violence?

~ Running Thoughts, June 04

Hyperbole

Seeing a speck on one's own nose.