Friday, May 20, 2016

The Act of Giving by Christian Gould

The tubes come with needles.
For my red, sacred rivulets,
A heart’s supply and this,

This is all that’s needed.
Open fistfuls of my life,
I share, for we are but air;

Moving in one giant gust,
So all are able to know,
The sky by name.

Crisp and fresh like,
Freshly fallen rain.
The clouds part with their residue,

Their saturation is spread to fields,
Of grain where grass grows.
Sky-high like the galaxy.

My name is a supply.
My spirit flies from my veins,
Like a sacred spring.

Walk on water!
Ha! A mere show, trivial!
Miracles come with bloodflow.

To turn hearts into thanks.
Hurt into health,
Harm into harmony.

The sacred spring.
We are only temporary,
But the act of giving is eternity.

The Act of Giving: by Christian Gould

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