Do Unto Me
Crashing in like a surf break pounds the shore,
soak my flesh as every grain of sand,
till all my bones ache to their very core,
and passions fiery heat need not be fanned.
Then carry me, like a curly golden maid,
as fresh as eggs collected in the morn,
who reaches for the milk jug in the shade,
to wash your feet without an ounce of scorn.
Who cherishes each vow to keep life sane,
engulfing loneliness inside the soul,
as earth spins hyper fast and numbs the brain,
like a hungry swirling mass of purple hole.
Untie the knots in unforgiving space,
to wrap them up again as ribboned bows;
representing gifts of love and common grace,
like a newly polished chalice all aglow.
Then shoo away the shadows that are hiding;
Threatening to take our breath in deathly throe,
by loving me as if I was worth finding,
till the quiet in my head becomes a roar.
poem by Sara Fielder
Added by Poetry Lover
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