Weathered

I am the sun. I provide warmth and help you to see more clearly. I am always there for you even when obscured by the clouds that mar our days.

I am the wind. I blow through your life, moving things around, disturbing your cluttered order. You stand your ground against my attempts to rearrange.

I am the rain. You protect yourself with coats of truculence and umbrellas of silence. I seep into your conciousness. You wish that I would cease.

You are aware of my changing moods, have learned to clothe yourself in words that protect you from the discomfort I can cause. In time you may move on knowing that I will remain.

You berate me for not being whatever it is that you wish I were today. So many incarnations that you have longed for and which I have failed to become. You ask that I change then change what you ask, desires and ambitions in flux. I provide the means to enable you to flourish aware that stunted growth can be caused by too much.

There is little excitement in our temperate home. You have commented on the lack of storms, wondered at their absence. You do not see the cracks beneath the surface. The plates, should they shift, could tear our little world apart.

It is natural that you should observe all that is around, question and experiment with change. Perhaps in time you will travel, discover new climes, new means to blossom. I wonder how different your choices will be to mine.

No one region suits all living things so choose wisely where you put down roots. Your sun will shine and the clouds will pass. You will learn how to weather your storms.

 

 

 

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