Woke up this morning
looked out my window pane,
gray clouds coming
bringing on that old falling rain –
highly indicitive
are drops made of dust,
the punctuality
of all things working out the way they must –
a rabbit under the bush
lays sleeping,
as birds gather to trees
weeping –
some
glad,
some
sad –
not a one can still
what must come,
the seasons shall roll on
until time itself is done –
and I a mere mortal
alone,
can only decipher so much
of the great unknown –
while these vaporous
indefinite impressions,
go right on recklessly teaching
life’s most resolute lessons –
Indefinite Impression
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