we can only see what we are awake to see the rest is a guess
in the aftermath it’s as if the sky says, it’s going to be alright
when the sunset glows an intense orange, you know it will be sweaty
there are those mornings when listening to the rain is the day’s best plan
the grey morning light is fresh and renewed when viewed through rain soaked windows
does it register as we rush through our days; the promise of new life?
it just takes a spark to ignite a fire that’s felt for hundreds of miles
do the flowers see last year’s berries and wonder, is this my future?
we only tend to notice the transition when it is dramatic
for new life to grow we must first learn to let go of the life that was
uptown jack 