The rain falls unpatterned
         through the grey sky
and I think of our language
         the habits of our words
imposed by time
         and by circumstance
the changing seasons
         the state of the nation
the state of our hearts

The orchids are blooming
         white virginal flowers
that open up
         bringing with them
the promise of a softer 
          emotional climate
a throwback to our roots
         something stately
that grows with dignity
         and without affectation
privileged vegetation
         removed from the risks
of its natural environment

And how the day breaks
         a kernel of light
that expands within the darkness
         illuminating all that will
one day pass
         into eternal darkness
No habit or procedure
         can save us from that
but the lucidities
         of love and beauty and truth
render the transience
         of all the passes

John Lyons


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