My Compass

The day began With a hard driving rain That gradually slowed Into a soft pitter-patter On a small port-like window Located on the north side Of my country cabin With my morning coffee in hand I listened to the changing beats Of falling rain That sort of sounded like An old Jazz drummer Who couldn’t find a place To enter into the music Sometimes I have days like this Days, where the tempo Is so easy to recognize But no matter how hard I try I can’t find a way To join in Days like this I let pass by Giving myself the luxury Of knowing There’s always tomorrow Or if things are really bad Maybe next week But even if I can’t find a way To enter into the beat of life I will always have you To take my hand And help me to find A way to enter Into life’s music Rain or sun Day or night You have been And will always be My compass