More Human
There's a gift that man has, that's uniquely our own,
not in fishes, nor birds, nor beasts that do roam.
And we doubt that in Heaven, where matter is not,
that Angels can touch, this wet little dot.
A crystal clear liquid, that comes from your soul,
found deep in your heart, is the source of its flow.
A small swale like tide fills your chest, makes you float,
as it rises and swells and chokes in your throat.
Your breath becomes jagged; you're hard-pressed to speak,
your tongue, it tastes salty, your body drifts weak.
Your sinuses sniffle, your hearing is clogged,
your vision is blurry, your eyes water logged.
Now a flood of emotion drowns your mind in a din,
as the dams of your ego burst forth from within.
Through the seas of your being, streams a truth that you trust,
to the oceans eternal, pours God’s essences of Us.
Swim these currents of wisdom; you tread not in vain,
fore that trickle on your cheek falls, as spiritual rain.
Know your purpose for living, adrift in this flesh,
is to let your spring flow, to love life at it's best!
It wells forth, in your joy, your sorrow, your now,
from your pain, your elation, your promise, your vow.
Be you happy or sad, overjoyed or in fear,
there's nothing more human, then the drop of a tear.
Copyright © Sam Shada | Year Posted 2007
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