SurvivingThe Storm (Poetry)

They say that into every life a little rain must fall
in contrast to warm seasons blessed by sun
and when we total up the score as best we can recall
the balance finds we’ve had a fair-ish run.

Yet showers are too often chill, the dismal clouds so grim
and such days stretch — hang heavy while they last
our memories of happiness like candles flickering
keep faith alive until the storm is past.

And then the hush — miraculous — the sky grows blue
                                                and clear
and birds start singing in a nearby tree.
The threat is gone — a ray of sun dispels all trace of fear
and life goes rolling on regardlessly.