Half Rain, Half Sun
This season draws a hemisphere
and pulls my feet along its lane.
It drenches half of me with sun;
my other half it paints with rain.
One shoulder carries only drops,
the other bears a set of rays,
and half around has shades of gold,
and half has hues of quiet days.
It's summer rain or winter sun
that casts the light and makes me laugh;
with no umbrella I still see
my stretching shadow cut in half.
Itīs warm and cold or pale and bright
that change my mind where feelings start
to let me free from wistful thoughts
and hum a song I know by heart.
So, now the rain has left the lane
and, to end this mystery,
I witness as the sun replaces
all greyness with festivity.