Is your puddle half full or half empty? |
Puddles Winters never far away There always will be rain To fill the hollows where we play The dips within the plain Peaks where debris tumbles down Ignored until the clouds Light it up and rumble down Drenching summer shrouds Valleys flood ‘tween hills that climb Free of the cascade Sliding mud massed over time Ignored in summer shade Shade no longer well defined When clouds obscure sun Conditions, reasoned realigned The seasons they will run Stripping peaks of coverage A warding from the storm Protection thought a privilege A right to which they’re born Whilst down in gullies, rivers gush Debris from better times Flowing with the season’s rush No reasons in the rhymes Yet nature’s law is not so plain Its cycles yet unknown With tors refreshed in tight refrains And nothing set in stone As torrents wash the waste away The nature not sewn down In history the annuls play In memory it’s found Mountains become molehills Floods condense to pools Puddles paddled, slight rills And molehills climbed by fools With growing up our only sin We play in lines, confined Puddles should be jumped in, and peaks, they should be climbed |