Storms of torment and great terror

Then, rains of showering kindness,

Are the heavens guilty of some error

In their ingenuity and finesse.

 

Is it all about evening things out

A levelling of sorts as it were,

A little for me, a little for you

A little grumble, a little purr,

 

Is it the flipping of the little coin

That decides the order of play,

Heads you lead, tails I join

(Are these the shards of Destiny)

The, changing, states of play.

 

Mercy is not strained, for sure

But, it does in nature vary,

Sometimes less and sometimes more

But, never is there a nary.

 

It may not seem to be like that

‘Cause nothing stays the same,

The sighs, the longing, the emptiness

The passage of Time, life’s eternal game.

 

However, dark ‘tis overhead

However, long the night,

Dawn can never be denied

From spreading the rays of light.

 

So, it is with the Rains of Kindness

That follow the wicked Tsunamis,

The wraths of the skies seldom askew

And so are, Heaven’s Mercies.

 

So, be thankful and be grateful for

Each Morn that comes your way,

Each Night that helps you gently sleep

Then, dream of another Day.

(The author is a prolific poet who has over 40 poetry books to his credit. He can be reached at ashoksawhny06@gmail.com/ www.ashoksawhny.com)