Cloudy

My days are filled with gloomy grey;
The clouds are hanging low.
The rain has washed my hopes away
With never ending flow.

I wake to yet another dawn
And cannot find the sun.
There’s now a swamp where once was lawn.
When will this rain be done?

Yet, even though I cannot see
Or feel its warming rays,
I have on good authority,
The sun is still ablaze.

For far above these looming clouds,
Unseen by feeble eyes,
The sunlight shines as dreary shrouds
The deepest bluest skies.

I know at times my life has been
As gloomy as this day.
I seek but cannot find him when
This darkness clouds the way.

My mood is bad. I’m so depressed
From life’s relentless blows.
My life seems dark and bleak; oppressed
In evil’s painful throes.

But even though I cannot see
The glory of the son,
I have on great authority,
That he’s already won.

For far above my dreary mood,
Unseen by earthly eyes,
There stands a grateful multitude
And songs of praise arise.

For skies are bluer after rain
When cloudy weather clears
And life’s more precious after pain
When glory reappears.

This poem was a finalist in the February 2018 poetry contest