Poem: Stupid Simple

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Stupid Simple

Somewhere the sun is shining.
Here there is rain.
The weather changes.
Life changes.
That’s just how it works.
There is no mystery to it.
No secrets.
Not mystical frou-frou.
There are good times
and bad
and where I am now has little relation
to where I will be the next day, and the next.

Stupid simple,
isn’t it?

So enjoy the sun. It will pass.
Enjoy the rain. It will pass.
All that remains is the love, or hate you left behind
as the weather changed.

That stuff lives forever.

About this poem. 

Not very poetic. Ah well.  The results of writing poetry with too much medication in your system.  No wisdom here this morning. The only thing is now. And there is almost always good stuff in it. But that is less important than what we leave behind in our wake. Stupid simple. But most important stuff is.

Tom

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