Reid@YWP

As a kid I would sit and listen to the rain, 

Thinking of Mother Earth’s pain.

I knew our climate was rising, 

My worry went ignored, unsurprising. 

April, my admiral, 

lighten my wings with your shrill whistle, 

We are all born containing a roll of wool

Soundlessly, mine intertwined with yours

My other half

Merged and fused 

Not on a leash nor a chain 

A delicate soft lace 

"Somewhere beyond the ideas of wrongdoings and rightdoings, there is a field. I will meet you there." -Rumi

somewhere sometime someplace