It's one of those things
You can't control:
What tides bring, how sun sings.
Content to settle with clouds,
To leap from pavement,
Or lay in valleys, pool unproud.
You don't want to, anyway.
You know it's not to know,
But to live the unknown
In ways steady and new--
Dancing barefoot on soft grass,
Rain the only room around you.
Gratitude lives a life hidden.
Old habit, really.
But your knuckles at his door,
Then a warm cup of tea:
Better than knowing more,
Stronger than what you see.
