Submitted by Matthew Rhodes
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.
Photo credit: An Italianate Landscape with Travelers on a Path, Jan Both
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Reblogged this on poetry diary and commented:
Thank you to Vita Brevis for publishing one of my poems, together with a beautifully apt picture.
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You did an excellent job–we’d love more of your work in the days to come!
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Reblogged this on The Biblioanthropologist.
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Lovely!
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“Lives like raindrops falling into mud/making rivulets of blood.” Breathtaking!
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What an opening!
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Indeed!
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Profoundly touching words. Beautiful expressed. Thanks for sharing.
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‘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.
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We were so pleased with Matthew’s submission–it so hits almost every one of our tenets with such subtlety!
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Indeed!
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Profound and moving! Beautiful
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