A finishing touch

Kindness comes from no where
and every where.
It showers down like a cleansing rain, washing me,
cleaning the stench of battle from my body.
A word,
a touch,
revitalize me
and the enemy runs.
Since when has work become such a horrible task master?
Birds, sparrows, come and play and frolic in the bushes i trimmed.
A stoic, stern faced man walks home from work.
He is sad to me.
He never smiles or returns a "hello",
but marches like a solider, to and fro "work",
missing all that life has to offer in front of his face.
Was this the nameless foe i battled?
How silly to think it thought it could win.
It has its place, this work,
but i am always looking for so much more.
Even in the midst of "work", i look to give and receive,
compassion.
Something work does not know, nor comprehend.
But i comprehend it, i know it intimately.
like the curves of a lover's body.
refreshing my heart,
my soul.
Those are what matter most.
The children still flock around
and i know i have learned that lesson well,
that lesson that kindness is all that matters.