Dancing In The Rain Poem by bryan wallace

Streetlights amber glow reflecting from puddles,
Dimly lit pub windows shine a warming welcome
Through the darkness of a Novemeber night
Rain comes down in stair-rods
Beating a drum tattoo on parked cars roofs.
Run-off from guttering runs along the pavement
As I walk along this deserted street
Rainwater on the path soaks into my shoes
Anyone with an ounce of sense - safe and sound
Snug and warm taking shelter from the storm.

But I have the town to myself as I walk,
Space to comtemplate life and it's meaning.
St. Eunan's town clock across the deserted diamond
Chimes the hour as always - time doesn't stop for rain.
The spooky outline of the ruins of Bishop Leslie's castle
Can be seen over the rooftops of houses.
Same auld town, same auld buildings, same auld Irish weather.
Small town rural Ireland, nothing ever changes -
But it's really a question perspective - how we view life.
Nothing will ever change if we don't change our view of life.
Do we want to hide from life's storms -
Or should we learn to dance in the rain?