Poem-A-Day Prompt 30: Write about Milk.  This is the last prompt of the month.  I might take off a day or two before I get back into a poem-a-day groove, this time with my own prompts, perhaps.

Somewhere in the world, the milk is falling,
raining in great drops from benevolent heaven.

Cup your hands into a bowl.
Feel it splatter into your palms
and trickle through your fingers.

Wash your face in it.
Splash it over your eyes and you will see again.
Anoint your forehead and see further.

Pour it into the gaping wounds
where the frenzied creatures
of habit and risk, of anxiety and anger and hate
have gnawed at your insides.

Drink it in great gulps
and feel it soothe your weary voice.
Take it in, breathe it,
bathe in it.

Then lie back like a new babe,
and let it dribble from the corners of your mouth.
There will always be enough.