When the wind turned,
so did the day, so did life in disarray,
and I wonder if so attuned is life
to swoon at our every strife,
our clouded grey thoughts in play.
I peruse a clear and mild day,
sun warm and nurturing,
as so am I in mood to vie for more,
restore the doubts I had and watch
my heart enact that open azure sky.
Are we in thought and action so aligned
to bare each others ups and downs,
profound the way refection just mirrors
our feelings back and forth, or am I just
conceiving a drama I alone create?
Do I reflect Mother’s mood,
dreary days and solemn, sunny days
and spry I become, just because the sky,
or is it my thoughts of glum
bring on those brooding clouds,
and my smile clears an eternal blue?
Sensitive souls you and I,
reading each other’s faces, and in hearts response,
attesting the assonance of our plight,
as we twist and turn within the light,
enriching possibility with endless hues and sight.
Perhaps we are friends
and feel each others plight,
in empathy we slight ourselves to feel,
and follow in the pathways of each day,
designed separately yet attuned.
Or is this another flighted fancy,
I think too much, read too much to know,
that everything is connected,
each thought each weather change abetted
to reveal a truth profound and new?
I sit and watch raindrops fall down my window,
their trace like river lines accosting drops
and racing down the pane,
and who will win, at what cost their pain,
life or death or a joyful refrain
attests their very being.
Who am I to know,
I just create the weather, the seeds to sew?
Tony DeLorger © 2018