On belief

do not roll your tongue in the anguish of dew
the sun does bake the morning and afternoon
you could have baked dough and somewhere lives some stew.

cement your deed as nothing hides from the moon
when you tickle the wind, what then makes it laugh?
did you clasp your hands for nothing to come soon?

someone will grow seeds and never see the chaff
the world may be round, look well it still has legs
the rain, night, stars are all controlled by a staff.

the morning clouds are yolks of different eggs
do you not know why you look up when you pray?
it’s because your answers are held by some pegs.

so when you kneel, what does your mind really say?
“never flirt with fear or doubt or you’d be prey.”

Ruddapoet