Passing Seasons. Poem by dave lessard

There is sunshine in the rain,
that falls from heaven,
golden drops, that you cannot see;
in the wetness of an autumn storm,
the golden light of day,
awaits for you and me.
There is a freshness in the air,
once the rain has stopped,
and earth's canvas stands anew;
a colored bridge is in the distance,
against a canopy of solid blue.
Just as life, each storm is quick in passing,
though some seem lengthy, and rather long;
and like the summer, a season's passing,
as we welcome in, September's song.
There is sunshine in the rain,
that falls from heaven,
through the silent mist that covers all;
now comes the lovely tints of autumn,
that announce the reign of fall.