Writing Spaces

Storm clouds carry faces
so real I swear they speak:

be wary
do not squander fine days
remember happiness

You do not know the weather’s humours.

Their mouths twist to laughter,
then they are dogs,
curling away after their own tails

until howling and roiling, back they come,
forcing me to shelter
in a crashing deluge.

Yet in the street the lighthearted are dancing,
barefoot,
pant legs rolled,
filling buckets for the dry spells.

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“Shield your joyous ones” is borrowed from St. Augustine of Hippo:

“Watch, O Lord,
with those who wake,
or watch or weep tonight,
and give your angels charge
over those who sleep.

Tend your sick ones,
O Lord Jesus Christ;
rest your weary ones;
bless your dying ones;
soothe your suffering ones;
pity your afflicted ones;
shield your joyous ones;
and all for your love’s sake.”