Like Rain

The first rule 

in dealing with the gods

is not to spurn their gifts

if they want you 

to create then start

the process of flowering 

if they want you to

rescue yourself and others

then start the long march 

out from the shadows 

because they won’t hesitate 

to whip you on the way

to speed your feet.

Whatever blessings 

they shower in their 

inconsequent and casual design 

are meant for us 

their weight is heavenly

unparalleled and 

as necessary as caffeine 

after the first hours of withdrawal 

reach your hands out

and accept what they offer 

with your whole heart

or you will pay the price.

If I try to turn my face 

from the phone

before the poem is finished 

they will blind my eyes

if you try to stop yourself 

from passing along one more

irresistible topic they may

strike you with lightning or cars

or make the taste of learning 

fade in your mouth 

until you no longer hunger for it.

Only the Father of Winter

sets mercy upon the table 

as one of his gifts 

all the other gods are crowded round

with their avaricious eyes 

wondering how to wake up

storms inside of us

setting wildfires of elation 

or terror burning in our chests and

casting down witchbolts of love

or agony like rain.