April Haiku #5217

Through moving grey clouds

I spot a patch of blue

sometimes quickly lost.

I pondered the light

as it vanished into black

storm clouds present rain.

The cold in my bones

freezes my will to move on

but I must leave home.

Into each droplet

to travel where one must go

though the wind will fight.

Sometimes the waiting

is the perfect solution

when facing grey clouds.

When grey turn to white

then the white fades to light blue

desire is reborn.

Seasons of living

one moment by one moment

has left me here, still.