Ambrosia?

Poetry

Photo by Nikola Johnny Mirkovic on Unsplash

Like the rain dancing upon the old tin roof,
The words falling,
streaming down, around,
and through the halls of my mind.
Pooling in word puddles, marinating,
Drawing flavor from
The raw spices of humanity.
A little tension here,
Some compassion there,
Pain, so much pain,
Like hot, spicy chili peppers,
Burning, flames charring,
Caramelizing our skins,
Douse with a creamy sauce of love. Yum.
What delight in a world of chaos,
Tempered by self-indulgence
And gratitude, endless choices.
Do we have a choice?
Too many. The correct one
Is which question do we choose to answer.
What flavor do we want today?
Tomorrow?

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