Wild weather, storms or lasting spring
There are times when rain-filled skies hold sway
And then warm days when we make hay.
The trouble is we can’t predict
Where a lightening bolt will hit
The forecast may seem set at fair
Then we are caught up unaware
In a hailstorm, cloudburst or a gale
We flounder helpless – our arms flail
Life, like the weather, has no plan
Events in all directions can
Buffet and push us on our way
Force us to take stock, and may
If we can sense which way it’s blowing,
Lead us onwards - gently flowing.
Why are we here? Where should we go?
Who decides which dice to throw?
Perhaps our life is but a test
And listening to our heart is best…
(c) Poet in the woods 2014
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