THE WEATHER OF OUR LIVES

 

When you had a shower I thought it was rain.

When you brought all those books home I thought we lived

In a library. When you smiled I suddenly realised

That cliches are based in truth and of course

The day became so much brighter.

When my eyes had rested in yours I could clearly

See for much greater distances, sometimes years ahead

Whereas before I had slowly plodded

From one uneventful day to the next.

Though seasons change over time

Sometimes a storm will spring up on the horizon

And there is nothing I can do to avoid its coming

Batten down the hatches and ride out the worst of it

Hiding in a corner of myself and reading a good book

Until its over.

Now I am studying hard, becoming

A meteorologist of emotions

So the weather of our lives won’t be so

Unpredictable. Each winter I study harder

Gathering in my little room

All the texts of good and bad humor

Until I look up

And the day is running away

Like wild Bukowski horses

Over the hills.

But Spring is my favourite season

And its very hard to keep up

My diligent dedication

To the art of the mind alone.

The body just says "leave all that

Alone for a while". "Come over here and look at this"

And there you are blooming

Like magnolia or frangipani

Bumped into in the street

Going shopping, riding in from the pool,

Standing in the kitchen

Telling the new drama of your friends lives

And then I feel I’ve graduated with a Ph.D. in love

With a special emphasis

On the beautiful

Non-conformity of clouds.

 

Lyndon Walker