The Rain Stops (Sonnet)
above the bad news headlines, clouds weeping,
waiting, waiting, waiting, for bluing skies,
seeds to sprout. The birds and I are singing
in the clearing air. You can clear your mind,
too, disengage from the stories keeping
you tied to the administration's lies,
angry responses, and despair creeping
in your heart. Love, blossoms, germinating
under darkness, now reaching to the light,
rock foundations, knowledge terminating.
Trust the voice within; new wisdoms take flight,
and you follow them as far as your fears.
Rest yourself in sun's shadows; dry your tears.
© Christine Salkin Davis, 2019