Hold Me

I love to contradict myself. The me I need is always there in the end.

I hate touch.

Yet I ask God to hold me.

I hate being lost.

Yet I only write my words when I am. 

I'm found today, 

but I was held by God.

Yes, that's why. 

I was held when I wasn't lost. 

The Sun wrapped me up in a hug. 

A hug my Mother would envy. 

Because I embraced the grasp and kiss. 

Perhaps, it's because Autumn is on its way. 

And the Sun tends to contradict itself in the cold. 

So the Sun reached out and asked me to rest.

The Sun has many arms. 

I could tell those around me felt His touch. 

I overheat easily. 

Yet, here I stand directly facing the Sun. 

-Verdure