Daffodils (12.03.12)

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.


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