Spotless beautiful rays of sunshine shining upon an otherwise gloomy cloudy field; a barren desolate wasteland of a place. But, every now and again on days when things are quiet, the sun shines bright in places that never seem to get light. Those are good days. Then there are times when the sun never shines. Days, even weeks pass where there is no light. Those are bad times. Nothing grows and everything seems to die. The worms love these dark times. They come out to play when there's no light. Though, when the spotless rays of light shine bright enough, the birds sing, and the bugs and small creatures play. And the worms; The worms hide deep within the earth, hiding from the light; hiding because they fear the shining sun and its dying, life giving rays.
Oh, how I love the bright days. Maybe tomorrow the sun will shine.
Oct 22, 2010
Oct 22, 2010 at 3:54 PM UTC
Spotless beautiful rays of sunshine shining upon an otherwise gloomy cloudy field; a barren desolate wasteland of a place. But, every now and again on days when things are quiet, the sun shines bright in places that never seem to get light. Those are good days. Then there are times when the sun never shines. Days, even weeks pass where there is no light. Those are bad times. Nothing grows and everything seems to die. The worms love these dark times. They come out to play when there's no light. Though, when the spotless rays of light shine bright enough, the birds sing, and the bugs and small creatures play. And the worms; The worms hide deep within the earth, hiding from the light; hiding because they fear the shining sun and its dying, life giving rays.
Oh, how I love the bright days. Maybe tomorrow the sun will shine.
Benjamin Adam Jenkins, 2010