BrainBulb

The mailman brings age, in sun or rain

His boots echo through each and every joy and pain

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Carrying letters of all shapes and sizes

Each one as if our hearts prizes

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He knows what it brings too

Setting us in a brew

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Treasured vaults, our first, our thirst, and our fault

Beginnings wrapped in colorful paper, we only but exalt

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But his eyes ever wearing a solemn hault

For what we receive comes, churns malt

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Till a silent answer we accept only in his view

 “Can you embrace this too”

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Every hue in hand becomes a shade of blue

An ocean, washes over, words held abound rapturous rue

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Silence, unchained in a cave

Darkness gifts its truths, we brave

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Trumpeters and puppeteers

Solemn seers and peers

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Bringing cheers, fears, or tears

Wish washed spears and sometimes smears, let go and see my dear

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For the mailman brings age, in sun or rain

Through each and every joy and pain