What do you do to fight the rainy-day blues,
To push through the mud, the flood, and thunder
When it’s always spring but never Easter?
At the window watching lightning flicker—
The power, too—feel the pane as it shakes.
What do you do to fight the rainy-day blues?
New life for flowers, snails, mushrooms, and you?
You search in hope for new growth but it seems
That it’s always spring but never Easter.
Each drop’s surface tension is soft heartbreak,
Alone, trapped from within and without, but
That’s how life is with the rainy-day blues.
Like March, love warms and cools and warms again
And the future is clear as mountain fog
When it’s always spring but not yet Easter.
Glory in the mundane. Praise faithful work.
Do the next thing. Rest in what’s done for you.
That’s the way to fight the rainy-day blues—
For right now it’s spring, and soon it’s Easter.
Image: Redbuds, Walker County, Georgia, March 2020.
I’m planting seeds and hoping for veggies. The ending of this poem really captures where I am . Thank you for putting my invisible into words.