Trees look sickly, especially in the mist On a day that has been gray When the sun has not been evident Its early spring; roads are ruddy and dirty There is an absence of grace Except for the running streams Evergreens are magnificent Tamaracks look doubtful at this time I feel like ice which is about to crack The horizon is barely visible Despondency seems quite natural Even though integrated with meaningful prayer I seem artificial as if having no cause Meditating and contributing leaves me Lusting for more; there has to be more Beyond this; if only for just a glimpse Sounds like a doubting Thomas, but normal We all go through this and tomorrow When it is the same who will there be to blame? It is the rapture that I would like to capture So much to know; the need to glow In my own eyes if nothing more A stranger passes – I say hello – end of story I did not want conversation What I say is the same for everyone It is my job to keep track of these things I will give a report but pass no judgements And I cannot answer inquiries as to what I am all about; the tides are steady A lesson to everyone; they are amazing and Have power manifested by the moon Power in man does not equal this and Will eventually put you in the ground while Those suffering indignity will Wear the everlasting crown The sun will begin to shine and in a few weeks Everything will be fine Melancholy is not all bad Stanski April 14, 2021 ^
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Steve Haarman 