We see it gathering over the mountain,
roiling and gray, a cumulus tumbleweed
heading our way.
And no matter how much we think
we’re prepared, always part of us
wonders, are we?
No matter how much warning,
how much we’ve anticipated,
it always lands differently
than we imagined—sometimes
more harshly, bucketing water
or pelting snow, delivering
more than we can handle.
But we do, somehow. We rise,
sometimes leaping into
the moment, to offer a hand
to someone deeper in struggle
than we are. And,
sometimes, the storm passes
overhead with the merest
grumble, not unleashing
its heavy cargo on us
for reasons we’ll never know,
allowing us to exhale
what we’ve tightly held,
step outside into the new day,
grateful for another
blessing bestowed.
Güd wrtr 
Wow, a Peachy Keen photo, worthy of honorable inclusion on the noted Güd Wrtr site. A stunning image by Cora Hoffmaster Johnson
What an amazing metaphor for these times, as well! Thank you, Jan. Love, Amrita
Thanks so much, Amrita!
This is cool and to be shared with your multitude of readers makes me right proud (as Chester used to say in Gunsmoke). Thank you, Jan, for your your wordsmithing talents bringing timely messages to us. You’re very special. Love and hugs, Cora
Thanks, Ms. Cora, for this inspiration! I think it’s a rather small multitude of readers, but for those folks, they get to appreciate your terrific photo with the poem today! Love and hugs.
Thank you Jan and Cora for a good March 1st reminder to honor the unknown. Warning and preparation are prudent, but caring, humility and awe are better tools for the journey ahead. Love, ~Connie
Thanks, Connie… so nicely said! And with that amazing photo from your BFF, it truly makes the poem… and inspired it!