Patterns On My Windows Poem by Phil Soar

While the rain patters against the windows
I no longer watch the birds at the feeders
They have taken shelter and the garden seems lost
Like a wilderness that awaits the returning sun

From inside, the grey sky supports only the rain
And the brightness seems like light years away
Until, through a small crack, I see shades of blue
As the light breaks through

Eventually, rays of sunlight force a smile
And the birds return, hungry, at the feeders
The windows no longer welcome the rain
But its presence leaves smears

Upon the glass that is my window on the world