by Kathryn Sadakierski
The rain clanks onto the roof, sounding like rumbling boots,
The thunder charges on like galloping horses
Under the shiny, water-stained sky, silver as a sheet of tin,
Rippling like a school of swimming fish
In the ocean’s swift-moving current.
I wouldn’t blame you if
You wanted to stay inside on a day like this,
Cozy by a fireplace,
With a mug of cocoa and a book you love,
Listening to a favorite story,
While the rain mumbles away outside,
Whispering the words on the page,
Writing something new
In the tracks of mud along the road,
A lined page waiting to be painted in.
But I also wouldn’t blame you if
You love to watch how radiant the world can be as it changes,
Looking out the window, you see
How life soaks in the raindrops scattered
Like seeds to grow the grass,
And how worms like pink ribbons, tangled shoelaces,
Restlessly wriggle on sidewalks and driveways,
Looking like the shapes you drew with chalk
On a sunnier day.
All the color of hope is never washed away,
A rainbow stretching like a rollercoaster
Over the trees, a bridge between the clouds
Inviting you back into the sunshine,
Where you plop your shoes into puddles,
Ready for another adventure,
Something new to draw, to learn, to imagine,
Whatever the weather!
About the Writer
Kathryn Sadakierski’s writing has appeared in anthologies, magazines, and literary journals around the world, including Agape Review, Critical Read, Literature Today, NewPages Blog, Teachers of Vision, and elsewhere. In 2020, she was awarded the C. Warren Hollister Non-Fiction Prize. She holds a B.A. and M.S. from Bay Path University.
Photo is in the Public Domain.