The Rain and the Vine

The afternoon rain brings sadness.
Nostalgic and frightful is the morning rain.
The landslide of mud comes with the heavy storm.

I’m as confusing as the grape vine to many
And as confusing to some,
Like my former bullies,
As a kudzu vine.

Does art come from the heart
Or rather just memories?
The vine rips away memories,
And the rain makes you believe you know nothing.

God is there to bring light to the memories of old.
To make them be of the memories of new,
So the rain does not bring forgetfulness or sadness.
But remember that God is the rain and the vine.

I do not know what I have done wrong,
But I am not right.
It’s like a “to be and to not to be” situation.
And so grief washes over me to remind me of the sunshine.

Can I see clearly now that the rain is gone?
But there’s still mud upon the Earth.
But there’s a sunshine flare.
There’s lots to know and lots I won’t know,
But it’s all okay.