I let myself fill up with rain.
It was an indulgence,
not something to sustain,
not something I have time for
in the day to day,
while the various buckets
we put under leaks
register their irregular
pticks and clangs and taps,
and hope seems to be leaking, too
We will get through this —
our source of strength does not depend
on all things rosy.
It will show itself steady,
well able to overcome
both internal and external rain.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 9, 2019
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