No rain.
No gain.

there is the strength
that comes from
the test
when so much moisture
from our mountains,
fields and pastures
has been wrest,

and there’s the confidence
to know
that we can live
a year or two
without the fall of
later melting-
snow. . .

our capacity,
while in these mortal bodies,
is not infinite,
and if rain comes–
we will do best
to praise the skies–
or at least not be too bummed–

and maybe our resistance
to rain’s influence
a little compromise,
to let it go
and let it blow
a little
to the winds. . .

and, if we muster
up the gumption
to suspend
our rainy day assumptions,
and stretch our faith
beyond its current limits,

perhaps we’ll even revel
in the glorious drops
of sparkling, life-imparting

and maybe splash
in a couple
deep, fat puddles,
if such opportunity we get–

As we venture
to walk on,
in our merry
life’s adventure
and put ourselves
square in rain’s way–

to glory
++++++++++++++++in it.

This entry was posted in Autumn, Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry, Seasons, Winter and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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