Music More Rousing Poem by Mark Heathcote

Don't let rainclouds spoil the view
our tears are flowers, too.
that move mountains with a smile
a clear-country mile.

Your heart isn't a weeping violin,
don't let pain and anguish win.
There's music more rousing
even than the dawn chorus to sing.

Just remember there are
many more days, bows sitars to string.
Lovers to help you fly
or clip your wings.

Don't overanalyse either;
Like Icarus …we all burn and fall.
We've all flown too high in the ether
parting sepals—enclosing a fireball.