A few days ago a client was in London on business and they came down to my small suburb on the southern edge of London and we went for a walk for a couple of hours then an early dinner. The weather was not the best as the “pathetic drizzle” attempted to dampen things, but the conversation was excellent.
As life has moved along for me, increasingly I have come to appreciate the days, to appreciate the present, rather than look too much to the future or focus on what has already been, to what could be “better”.
For this Sunday morning, then, I give you this poem by Henry Normal:
‘Better Days’
Midwinter we yearn for spring
Midnight we look to the dawn
We hope for better days
We make plans for when we are stronger
When infection has passed
When the fracture has healed
We ready ourself for the longest of roads
We study to stand in good stead
We strive so at some stage we can rest
And even on the sunniest day
We prepare for the coming storm
We bide our time
We watch our step
We correct our course
We pray for someone or something to take us somewhere
Somewhere better
We spend our whole lives searching for better days
And when we look back
There they were
We are the someone we prayed for
We are the something
This is the somewhere better
These are the better days
These are the better days