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
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