Medicine

 

Sometimes I take the little pill
The doctor gives to cure my ills
Hoping side effects will sleep
Till my case is in retreat

When I see a cerulean sky
Whispering clouds drifting by
Changing shapes and breaking ties
I sense…if they can…so can I

From my tear ducts oceans rise
From depths of me and find my eyes
Once I viewed them as a threat
Now a welcome…no regret

And let me not forget the one
Healing reaching all my bones
Laughter bellows out a cure
Like no other can secure

Not cruel or criticizing
Not in cynical devising
But merry heart and light of breath
For all that’s good despite the rest

Healing balms take many shapes
For mortal man’s imperfect state
But only one perfects his soul
Only Christ can make him whole

 

Today Paul Scribbles wants us to write some poetical medicine for dVersepoetspub.com