You ask the questions

What am I to take from this day
with its grey sky and fine drizzle
and a brisk breeze combing the leaves
and a lawn on which a fox is playing

with a child’s ball pushing it
back and forth with its paw
and in the background I hear
the hum of traffic and the to and fro

of people about their business
a mixture of speed and stealth
of purpose and acute indecision
What am I to make of these hours
and minutes before nightfall

before the blossom gives way
to fruit and prayers are answered
and summer descends with its promise
of beauty and peace and endless love

John Lyons