When It Rains...

  

It rained, little guy slept long, I wrapped gifts, did housework and watched/listened to this movie...so good!

When it rains its gray tinsel unchains

Rivers of rushing refrain

Stripped treetops lie, not against the sky

But in puddles on the lane

Its madrigal weeps from echo-laden deeps

And rouses soul-poetry

For the pen is a Muse filled with yesterday’s blues

Stirred by the air’s broken sea

When it rains thought roves a terrain

That nobody else can see

It opens a door through which mind-pictures pour

Painted on memory

And there on its street pool thought-years bittersweet

Drenching both faces and sod

Rending the heart with love’s mosaic art

Spilling in patterns from God

When it rains earth accepts heaven’s strains

As if they were azure –gold hymns

The trees on the lane never balk or complain

But stretch wide their four-season limbs

Embracing the song as it drips, low and long

Oh, could it be that they know

when this song dies and slips soft from the skies

The sun will be sweeter somehow?

© Janet Martin

'they' are forecasting gray songs until at least Friday...