Weathered

[Ann Marie Mondejar]

Whenever it rains,
it does not always pour
Sometimes it drizzles
when it’s bright and blue
When the sun’s still out
and rain showers you
However, your eyes,
they sparkle despite the mist
And between your lashes
hang the morning dews
Yet your gaze is vibrant,
as fresh green leaves
You, a beauty of tender flowers,
bloom a smile—- bittersweet.
But the weather is never tame
You cannot demand sunlight for rain
Neither for breeze nor shade,
It arrives when it pleases, so
There comes the pitter-patter
A drip, then a drop
Follows a loud thunderclap
Gone are the little raindrops
Greets the brewing storm,
Up the thick grey clouds
And within those murky green orbs
In the dreary sky, it looms
Your heart full of gloom
Anxious for the torrent,
and its raging waves
Because at times it floods, it surges
It rattles the cages
Until the dams overflow,
Unto the ravines
Without unrelenting rain,
Your tears — pour.
Still, your face cleared along the skies
Your cheeks dyed with a pink hue
Standing proud and sheepish,
A blossom weathered, unwithered.