It is only April after all.

Rains swamp thoughts of spring.

Yet plants and birds and bees and butterflies,

burst forth in leaf or song or drunken flight.

So when the sun breaks through the lowering clouds

it’s golden rays, like spot lights on a stage.

We know, who wait in patience here below,

that soon the theater of life

will entertain us once again.

 

 

David Garlick, Lopez Island, WA, 1988