today i opened the door
to a torrent of a storm,
to a cold and pelting rain,
to a gail of a wind
that could lift a horse from its feet,
and send it flailing down stream.
“another beautiful day,”
i say with a smile,
as i hunch my shoulders
and shield my head,
in hopes to stay dry,
in an effort to keep warm.
as i squint my eyes
and press forward,
as i go against the grain
of the gale and the gust,
i marvel at the drops
as they splash around,
as they puddle and pool,
as they soak into the ground.
i ponder, in awe of the sudden squall.
i wonder, from where on Earth did this first come?
did it rise from the streets of Naples
and across the Mediterranean Sea?
did it climb the mountains of Nepal,
or maybe the Blue Ridges of Tennessee?
did it flow o’er the fields of the prairies,
through the Plain of Six Glaciers,
and swirl in opposition to the warmth
swelling up from the South?
or did it rally with the coming winter
that brews up in the Yukon North?
soaked to the bone,
knowing i’ll never know,
i hang wet clothes to dry,
i get morning chores done,
and i do them with a contented grin.
as four hours pass,
the dark clouds do part
(as they always do),
the sun shines gold,
and skies turn clear and blue.
and when at last,
that faint and familiar Fall breeze
brushes my wind-swept and welcome, rosy-cheeked face,
i consider, if all i have to do
is look at the world, in every way,
with a keen mind and eager eye,
won’t i find absolute beauty
in each and every day?