come to us. . .
sprinkle refreshment
when our well of wonder
is tatter'd, transparent
& parch'd
and all that we want for
the day is a night to remember;

come to us
Madame of the Dawn
shine your spectrum of bold theologies
into our ever-clutter'd crevices
that defy any reasonable organization,
and protect us from being pick'd apart;

come to us we pray the,
Mother Superior Poetry
express yourself thru your children
who sneer at the sheer thought of
nodding out while you birth in us
an unconsider'd discovery
 

  © 2006 cynth'ya lewis reed
all rights reserv'd
   

*Note: I am moved almost to speechlessness that this very posting is Poem Number 300 since joining the Authors Den. Thank you all for inspiring me to continue as I do more speaking engagement. You have shared SO much with me. . .So thank you again and again. I look forward to actually giving you a big hug, if not via seminar or workshop, then via the computer.