Sunday Sonnet!

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Do not the lack of sunshine e’er lament,
When pregnant clouds their bounty on earth shed,
Such blessings for our well-being are meant,
Extol with thankfulness the gift instead;
Untended go the prayers for rain elsewhere,
As parched and famished creatures, young and old,
With yearning eyes into the morrow stare,
Expectant, but of suffering untold;
Forever in the human mind persists,
Ambivalence of what is bad or good,
In heart of Mother Nature none exists,
Fostering in all a sense of brotherhood;
Prosperity bespeaks a word of thanks,
Adversity among the noble ranks.

©Meanderings 2018

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