A Golden Lining

Though gray clouds press down and seem ne'er to end,
Though droplets roll down pale faces like tears,
Warm, healing rays our sun will always send.

**Villanelle**

Though gray clouds press down and seem ne’er to end,

Though droplets roll down pale faces like tears,

Warm, healing rays our sun will always send.

 

Even when the weight’s so great our wills bend,

And each bleak day teems with grief, pain and fears,

When gray clouds press down and seem ne’er to end…

                    

We cling fiercely to hope that we can mend,

That if we endure the desolate years,

Warm, healing rays our sun will always send.

 

Whether this hope is truth or mere pretend,

What others are so optimistic seers,

When gray clouds press down and seem ne’er to end?

 

This light in humanity we do tend

Reveals we are more than oil, cogs, and gears –

Warm, healing rays our hope may always send.

 

Perhaps this belief we fervent defend,

Innate hope is enough to quell our fears.

When gray clouds press down and seem ne’er to end,

Warm healing rays our sun will always send.

The End

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