More of these days:

The Grey and the Water


Grey, grey, silver, grey.
Around glimmer ghosts of the sun.
It’s only found in raindrops these days,
These grey-silver days.
But I do not hate the grey.
I love its tempestuous flips
From woolen to silk,
Silk to woolen to winking charcoal.
Everywhere is where the water is:
My shoes, my hair, my eyes.
These watery, raining days.
But I do not hate the water.
I love its shape-shifting ways
From fog to rain,
Rain to fog to sugary snow.


The grey and the water have baskets.
They carry awareness to my door.
When they knock on my red door,
I open it and they come rushing, dancing in.
They borrow my breath (only for a moment)
And return it with more reason to breathe.
They are frames for colors who long to be made
Eternal in the minds and eyes of the dreaming.
They are the lovers of leaves and pavement,
Bringing the jewels of the sky to the Earth.
Splashing, saturating, intensifying,
Washing, nourishing, covering.
I will never hate the grey and the water
But rather sing to them with my mind
And love them with my eyes.


(These are the days we are having and I am in love with them, so this is a song of my mind to them.)