Day 76:

Day 76:

Have you noticed how much darker it gets now?

It's not yet 5pm, but we need the light on to see.

Staring out the window, the world seems colder.

Barren trees surrounded by brown sludge,

leaves trodden and soaked and stirred together by horrid weather.

The stars are still asleep, under the covers of clouds,

leaving all on the ground to wander in darkness.

Winds rattle against the windows and doors,

battering the human positions against the elements.

Bins fly open and are hauled over, spilling out into the street,

spraying waste and debris from their rightful place.

Plants and fences are hauled down,

scattering and shattering across gardens.

The clouds turn grey and the sky darkens further,

warning all to back away from the brewing downpour.

But I do not close my curtains.

The light has faded, 

but the window into my world still illuminates so much.

The impermanence and uncertainty of our natural world,

and it's magical seasonal cycles that always endure.

The constant motion and undeterred nature of our society,

never pausing, always overcoming.

A flicker of light, a note of inspiration echoing in, day or night.

When I look out from between my curtains,

I never fail to see a beam of hopeful light,

a reason to smile and take delight in some part of our world,

which is why I only close them to say goodnight.