These are the days given to us
Sometimes they are very cold and snarly
I think: What happened during the night
To produce this dreamy kind of malarkey
The dark faded when it was time
It left us with chilly, gray on the incline
To be kind the wind stopped hollowing
The lake glazed over with a stage of ice
I think about all of these days and wonder
What would they become if they were seeds
And could be scattered about to grow?
What would we be getting? A cornucopia
Of delight, joy, happiness, and goodwill or
Something more like evil, hatred, violence, and death
We will never know for it is something we can’t do
We must take the days, one by one, and live in
The one we’re in, influencing it in our unique ways
Depending on how we feel or how others
Respond to our actions. We become the growth
In the garden, depending on so many things
And others if we are to have a chance at fruition
Many things to ponder while knowing
That there is one truth and we have
This one day to bloom in a complimentary way
It has been given to us, let us use it well
Stanski
January 2, 2022 ^