This is the memory of fourteen-year-old me on a contemplative day looking out at Brockwood Park School’s vegetable garden…
I see the droplets on the window pane
and feel glad. The world that was sane
at least seems simple again.
There is only the glass, and I,
and daffodils in the rain.
My breath fogs up when I open the door
and the chilled air rushes in. No more
is yesterday’s unfettered joy,
yet emptiness has abandoned me
to the peace of evermore.
The feeling is ephemeral, but still I know
that even when the calming rainclouds go,
I will have rest and peace of mind to show.
The rain sweeps forward, and I
welcome its icy glow.
No wild heartbreak or rushing brain,
I see the world as bright but plain.
A time to be both calm and sane
leaves a gentle cheer with me
to see daffodils in the rain.