TO SEE THE BLESSINGS IN THE GRAY

Yes, gray.

But still,
it’s day.

Perhaps
you don’t spot
sun or blue,

but nonetheless,
its brilliant light
through cool, thick clouds
shines somehow through,

to fill a well
of warmth and vibrancy
that lets you move. . .

remember, now,
to notice that. . .

the more you do,
the more you find,
the more you to the light
become less blind. . .

and that will bring
in snowballs of progressive flowerings
a plenty of the blessings
quite rightfully assigned to you.

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This entry was posted in Autumn, Medium Length Poems, Poetry, Seasons, Winter. Bookmark the permalink.

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