Indefinite Impression Poem by Smoky Hoss

Woke up this morning
looked out my window pane,
gray clouds coming
bringing on that old falling rain -
highly indicitive
are drops made of dust,
the punctuality
of all things working out the way they must -
a rabbit under the bush
lays sleeping,
as birds gather to trees
weeping -
some
glad,
some
sad -
not a one can still
what must come,
the seasons shall roll on
until time itself is done -
and I a mere mortal
alone,
can only decipher so much
of the great unknown -
while these vaporous
indefinite impressions,
go right on recklessly teaching
life's most resolute lessons -