Lives like raindrops falling into mud,
making rivulets of blood.
Unwasted, yet ungently blown; dashed and mixed and tossed and dropped,
then burned and baked to clay;
stretched tight in frozen screams.
Time, as in a century, will pass
and stir the mud; raise ears of corn
unnumbered like the raindrop lives
that cannot be remade.
About the Poet
Submitted by Matthew Rhodes
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Vita Brevis Press 
Reblogged this on poetry diary and commented:
Thank you to Vita Brevis for publishing one of my poems, together with a beautifully apt picture.
You did an excellent job–we’d love more of your work in the days to come!
Reblogged this on The Biblioanthropologist.
Lovely!
“Lives like raindrops falling into mud/making rivulets of blood.” Breathtaking!
What an opening!
Indeed!
Profoundly touching words. Beautiful expressed. Thanks for sharing.
‘raindrop lives’ –a phrase that resonates and will live with me for a good while. Personally I think that this is the best poem so far.
We were so pleased with Matthew’s submission–it so hits almost every one of our tenets with such subtlety!
Indeed!
Profound and moving! Beautiful