Wind and rain and hail now alternate.
There is no constancy nor steady state.
And so on moods I will next meditate
As tolerant we must be until rebate.
We don’t believe the weather is our fault
We buy umbrellas, shield ourselves from rain.
When a darker mood our mind assaults
We rush to look for how we are to blame.
Our human self is larger than we know
Will power can’t bring virtue or good moods.
From unknown places psychic winds may blow
And subject us to pains, violent and rude.
Don’t send your self to Bedlam much too soon
Moon-bathe in the rain and laugh at doom.
i
How my heart sings 