Rainy days and Mondays

Rainy gray Mondays are  
a melancholy time for me. 
The house is too quiet.
The children are at school 
My husband working hard at his job. 

I have the time to enjoy the  
sadness of the day. 
Perhaps I am addicted to it. 
Finding my mouth waning 
in a downward crescent all too often. 

Happiness is expected of me 
by the family and my friends. 
I think sad thoughts are my  
secret addiction perhaps my sin. 

But then I see a shaft of light from  

the returning sunshine  
it immediately cheers my mood
not in spite of the rain
but as part of it.
It has found its way
|onto the family picture  
that we used for last years  
Christmas cards. 

The smile on my face in that picture 
was not from saying cheese. 
I was full of pride and joy. 
I was, dare I say it Happy. 

Then I feel life's jester  
climb up onto my shoulders  
He is holding a sack of heavy gold. 
This is all the happiness  
you have in your life, he says. 
See how heavy it is. 

And I try walk about the house 
Smiling from ear to ear 
under the formidable weight 
of all my graces and joys.