The hay in my hand

I wish the hay would fill my hand
And that God in heaven would understand
That this soft world is easy to bare
But when my world is opened and shared
And the merging hay of sons out there
Takes my mind to distant loved ones shared
I hope the world remembers I cared
With each peel of thought layered and layered
I tried to council through the tangled threads
That never bent and barely even bled
And with each sip of this endless yet mindless cup
As the touch of eyes around looked softly down
Sometimes I remembered to stop and look up
And when I do in that word of thought
After reading this poem in too many I brought to tears
I reconsile my Ill will and offer all that I feel.