As I stare through the glass,
I can see raindrops hanging on
Then falling one by one, from the rail of the deck
On this damp day, outside,
Raising my head, looking over, the red-painted wood,
My mind starts to journey, over the creek in the valley,
Up to the row of trees, on the other side.
Brown is the dominant color, of the leafless trees,
A cold morning, a light breeze, moving branches of those trees,
As I stare are they sending a message to me?
The sky a grayish-white is there more to this, than raindrops,
Falling between the sun and planet earth, as we are taught to believe?
There is so much around us we never hear about in our time,
Many things we are taught, we will never understand, or see,
A list of questions, we each will carry till the end in our mind.


The original: Tom Maxwell ©1/10/2022 AD