The Heart is the Space. Poetry for a rainy day.

The drips and splatters

of life’s little matters

wet the mind for a new,

day and again

lest we all spend

life in a pool of gray dew.

Though showers of strain

never quite seem to wane

if people do look they might see,

the sun has come out

while they all looked about

and dried those tears of misery.

So open your eyes

to translucent blue skies

deep in the place that you dwell,

for the heart is the space

where change can take place

now rise from where you had fell.

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